


Lover, won't you take my hand?

by TheMedJack



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Adult Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Date Night, Domestic Bliss, Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak in a Wheelchair, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Feral Eddie Kaspbrak, Fix-It, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, He also sometimes uses forearm crutches, Idiots in Love, Injury Recovery, Living Together, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Non-Explicit Sex, POV Eddie Kaspbrak, Permanent Injury, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Richie Tozier Has ADHD, The Losers annual holiday party, Thoughtful Richie Tozier, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28324635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMedJack/pseuds/TheMedJack
Summary: A glimpse into how Eddie navigates his new life and thriving relationship with Richie, three full years after his injury in Derry. His recovery was difficult and felt never-ending, but Eddie has never been happier. Or at least he was, that is——until the day he accidentally discovers an engagement ring Richie hid away with the intent of proposing...and chooses to pretend he never found it.OR5 + 1: Five times EddiethoughtRichie was about to propose to him, and one time Richie did.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 26
Kudos: 195





	Lover, won't you take my hand?

**Author's Note:**

> so this is something that started as a short little story, until i decided to add scene after scene after scene...i know you're all very shocked and taken aback by this news...BUT i also used this story as an exercise to practice time skips and i'm very happy with the outcome!! 🥰 the last fic i wrote of this length took place over a single day, but this one takes place over 5-6 weeks!! (everyone clap pls 🥺) 
> 
> i thought of this idea about two weeks ago and i'm SO so so excited to share it with you all. consider it my holiday gift to everyone over on clown twitter, as a big thank you for making one of the most challenging and difficult years of my life much more bearable. happy holidays, i hope you all enjoy it!!! 🌈❄🌈❄
> 
> happy reading, loves 💜💜

Eddie never liked surprises.

They’re too sudden, too unpredictable, and always render his carefully-planned schedule useless. Eddie can adapt to most situations despite the stress, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the day he received that single, fated call from Maine.

Nonetheless, Eddie gradually adjusted to his new life once the storm cleared.

One of exploration, rekindled friendships, and an unexpected love. A life that opened his eyes and shattered his bones like glass. Moments all defined by a single memory, lost to time. Images scattered with hazy flashes of piercing lights, rumbling walls, and the shadow of a man cast down from where he floats.

The throw of a fence post, a descent to solid ground, the soft brush of lips in the dark.

A startled, tender smile marred by panic.

Then, _pain_. 

Eddie woke in the hospital twelve days later, a single one of his hands clasped in both of Richie’s. The man dozed beside him, a pair of crutches leaning against his chair. Eddie didn’t even notice the tears building in his eyes until Richie finally stirred. Their gazes locked and, for the briefest moment, time stilled. 

Then, shock. 

Denial, confusion, realization, acceptance, relief...

...love.

Eddie could see it all flash on Richie’s face as they stared, grinning through his sobs as he realized he felt it, too.

That was three years ago.

Over that time, Eddie grew more accustomed to surprises, and Derry certainly helped with that. Eddie knew that if he could survive an experience as drastically life-altering as facing a killer space clown for the _second_ time with his long-lost friends and lover at his side, he could make it through anything. 

Even so, Eddie fails to stop the startled jump of his heart when something thuds against his foot in his and Richie’s closet. He instantly rears back, having to remind himself of where he is and that he’s safe. Eddie peers over the edge of his wheelchair once he calms down.

An annoyed, drawn-out groan. “Dammit, Richie.”

Keeping one hand on the pile of shirts in his lap, Eddie leans down and tosses Richie’s bag aside. He makes a mental note to deal with it later, preferring to hang his freshly-ironed shirts first before they start to get wrinkled. A familiar chime fills the room when he’s nearly halfway done. Eddie pauses, glances at his phone, taps the screen, and props it up on a nearby shelf. 

“ _There he is! I’ve been trying to call you._ ”

Eddie smiles at the screen as the pixelated image of his friend fills it. “Hi, Bev.”

Beverly grins in return, running a hand through her hair. “ _Been busy?_ ”

“Yeah, sorry,” Eddie replies apologetically. He resumes his task of hanging up the laundry. “We got all of our Christmas and Hanukkah stuff out this week and we’ve slowly been putting it up.”

“ _Oh, us too! We did our tree last night, wanna see?_ ”

“Sure.” Pausing on his second-to-last shirt, Eddie leans closer to the screen. He beams when Beverly pans the camera to land on a large tree with flashing, multi-colored lights. It’s positively littered with ornaments from top to bottom. “Wow, how long did _that_ take?” 

Beverly flips the camera back towards herself and heaves a loaded sigh. “ _An embarrassingly long time._ ”

A short pause, filled with welcome laughter. 

“So what’d you call about?”

“ _Oh, right!_ ” Beverly chuckles, letting her face fall into her palm, “ _Tell Richie to send me the list of what foods he’s making for your holiday party so I don’t bring the same thing_.”

“Why don’t you just ask him yourself?”

“ _I did. Twice_.”

Eddie cackles.

“ _It’s not funny!_ ” Beverly snaps, her tone anything but serious. “ _He keeps saying he hasn’t perfected his list yet and won’t send it until it’s done! I know we still have a few weeks but I want to buy all of my shit now so I don’t have to run around to ten stores the day before Christmas looking for a fucking can of green beans!_ ”

“It’s a little funny.” Eddie doesn’t bother hiding his amused smile as he hangs the last shirt from his pile.

“ _God, you’re worse than him_.”

“ _Hey_ , I fucking resent that,” Eddie snaps with a finger pointed directly towards the camera. “Did you forget that the person you’re comparing me to, a grown _gay_ man, still jokes about fucking our moms every damn day?”

Beverly bursts into laughter. 

Struggling to maintain a serious expression, Eddie leans down to scoop up Richie’s bag from the floor. It’s light, very worn. Probably one of the select few bags that goes with Richie on every tour he takes. With a quick upward glance to the shelf the bag was presumably on, Eddie flings it up. 

It hits the shelf with a low thud, only to rock back over the edge and spill its contents all across the floor.

Eddie curses under his breath.

“ _Okay, you’ve got a point_ ,” Beverly wheezes, clutching her stomach onscreen, “ _But it’s almost always about_ your _mom, Eddie._ ”

“I kn-” Eddie abruptly cuts off when his gaze falls to the scattered objects on the floor.

Heart imploding at the sight, Eddie goes rigid as he struggles to snatch up one item in particular. He sits back up without a word once he’s got it securely wrapped in both hands. The silence over the call is suddenly all too noticeable; Beverly is quick to pick up on the shift in tone.

“ _Whoa, hey, why the long face? I was joking, Richie fucks all of our moms equally_.”

No reply.

There's a growing frown on Eddie’s face that Beverly can plainly see, but he's far too focused on the small, hinged box in his hands to care.

This can’t be what he thinks it is...

...right?

“ _Eddie?_ ” Beverly voices rings from the speaker. It’s laced with the slightest layer of concern as the smile on her face gradually fades. “ _What’s going on?_ ”

Her words blur in Eddie’s mind, barely detectable over the surging pounds of his heart. Eddie pauses. He decides to open it, knowing it would chip away at him forever if he didn’t. A second passes. Long, utterly agonizing. 

Eddie opens the box. “...Oh _fuck_.”

“ _Eddie, you’re freaking me out! Are you alright?!_ ”

Finally, Eddie drags his gaze away to meet the camera’s. His eyes are wider than he’s ever seen them, face losing more of its color by the second. Without a word, Eddie takes a shuddering breath and holds the open box directly in front of his phone. 

On its screen, a lagging flash of a golden band nestled between two cream-colored cushions.

“ _What is that?_ ” Beverly squints her eyes and leans in closer to her phone, only to jump back with a startled shout. “ _Wait, is that— Eddie is that an engagement ring?!_ ”

Eddie pulls the box back and nods wordlessly, mouth hanging partly open.

Beverly freezes at the horror in Eddie’s stare, suddenly realizing the full weight of the situation. Her eyes dart back-and-forth between his face and the ring-box in his hands. “ _...Is that— you didn’t buy it— it was in Richie’s bag— it’s— so he’s gonna-_ ”

After another short pause, it finally sinks in.

That this is _real_ , that Richie, Eddie’s boyfriend of three years, he—

“—he wants to marry me?” A smile is barely visible beneath Eddie’s stunned expression, his voice breathless and mixed with a bout of laughter lighter than air. “Bev, he-”

Beverly’s worried stare softens. “ _You sound surprised_.”

“I— we never really talked about it that much— I didn’t know if— I just— fuck, Bev…” Eddie trails off, unable to conjure words that could properly capture the exhilarating rush pulsing up and down his body. He speaks again, much softer but all the more certain. “He wants to marry me.”

“ _So based on your reaction, this is good, right?_ ” Beverly asks, her eyebrows raised in question. “ _You want this?_ ”

Eddie dons a vulnerable smile, even smaller than the last, before nodding eagerly towards the camera.

“ _I’m happy for you_.” Smiling, Beverly lets her gaze fall back down to the small box that Eddie’s tenderly cradling in both hands. “ _But you need to put it back_ exactly _where you found it_.”

Expression falling, Eddie closes the box and meets Beverly’s stare. “...But I wanna marry him.”

“ _I know you do. But use your dumb lovesick brain for a second, Eddie_.”

“What do you mean?”

“ _Richie hid that from you for a reason,_ ” Beverly starts with a serious tone. She stares at her camera expectantly as she speaks. “ _If you haven’t talked about it recently, it’s pretty obvious he’s planning on surprising you with it_.”

Fuck, of course.

Richie and his damn surprises.

“Shit,” Eddie breathes, panic setting in, “ _Shit_ — Bev, what do I do?”

“ _I’m not gonna tell you what to do!_ ”

“Okay but I’m your _best friend_ and I’m _not_ of sound mind to be making rational decisions right now,” Eddie rambles, speech growing in speed as a wave of nerves wash over him. His grip tightens on the box in his hands. “What if I told him I found it?”

“ _That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say and I’ve known you since you were twelve._ ”

“Well, is _lying_ to him any better?! It sure doesn’t feel like it…”

Beverly huffs a loud sigh, contemplating. “ _Yeah, I guess. So if you’re choosing from the lesser of two evils here, do you really think telling him you found the ring is less terrible than pretending you never found it?_ ”

“I don’t fucking know, Bev!” Eddie nearly shouts, visibly flinching when he recalls that Richie will be home soon. He makes an effort to lower his voice. “You _know_ I can’t stand lying to him. It’ll eat me alive if I don’t tell him.”

“ _Well I guess you’re just going to have to deal with it, then_.”

“I— I don’t know if I can do that.”

“ _It’s either that, or look Richie in the eyes and tell him you spoiled what will probably be the most important surprise he’ll ever plan for you. He_ adores _surprising you, Eddie…_ ” 

Richie and his _fucking_ surprises.

A heavy sigh of defeat. 

“You’re right, and I hate you for it,” Eddie replies with a glare and another pointed finger towards his phone. “I’m not gonna survive this, Bev…”

“ _You’re such a baby. Now you know that you and Richie both want the same future for yourselves. You literally have_ less _to worry about than you did before. You’ll be fine._ ”

“I fucking _hope_ so.”

“ _You know what? I was right before. You_ are _worse than him_.”

“Oh, come _on_ -”

A thud from down the hall cuts through the room, followed by the echo of a loud voice. “Eddie, baby, where are you?”

“Shit, Bev, he’s home-”

“ _Take a breath, Eddie. Put the ring-box back before he comes looking for you. Text me later, okay?_ ”

Richie’s voice sounds again, closer this time.

“It’s cookin’ time, Spagheds, so get your cute little butt in the kitchen and help me put away these groceries? Pretty please?”

“Yeah Bev, okay, I will,” Eddie nods, frantically bending over to scoop the scattered items back into the bag. He adds the ring-box last, flashing it a quick smile. Bag closed and phone call ended, Eddie rears back and throws the bag again, with more force behind this attempt. Time seems to freeze before it finally lands right where it’s supposed to. 

An overly-relieved sigh. 

“You better not be jerking off somewhere without me, Eddie!”

“Sorry sweetheart, I’m coming!” Eddie replies with a shout, quickly reversing out of the closet. 

“Oh, so you _were_ jerking off without me? Eddie I’m _hurt_.”

“ _Fuck_ you, Richie!”

“No can do, Eduardo. Dinner first, fuck me later!” Richie calls back, even louder than before, as a loud series of thuds sounds from the kitchen. “Ah, _shit_ -” 

A roll of Eddie’s eyes. 

“Just hold on, I’ll be there in a second,” He replies, more cautious with his choice of words this time. Eddie places an open palm on the door, stealing one final look in the closet to ensure he left no evidence of his discovery for Richie to see. Nodding to himself seconds later, he slowly closes the door. 

Now, all Eddie has to do is pretend he never saw that fucking ring. But maybe Beverly was right, maybe it won’t be so bad. At least he knows that Richie is ready to spend the rest of his life with him? Oh, who the fuck is Eddie kidding. 

He’s fucked.

  


* * *

  


“Shit. Eddie.”

“Hm?”

“Help.”

Frowning, Eddie sets his knife on the cutting board and peers over his shoulder. He finds Richie staring back at him in the same manner; The man's expression is pointedly flustered. Richie’s hands are propped on either side of the open pantry as he shifts his weight between both feet. “What, Rich?”

“...Eddie why am I over here?”

Eddie nods, suddenly understanding. “You were grabbing the olive oil for me.”

“Oh...right.” Richie rummages through the top shelf of the pantry. He grabs the bottle, carefully drawing it up and over the unneeded ingredients before handing it over to Eddie. There’s a sudden pressure atop Eddie’s head, and he smiles to himself once he realizes it’s a gentle kiss from Richie. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, bub,” Eddie answers quickly. He holds up the bottle to inspect its contents, turning it in hand until he spots the printed expiration date. A noted furrow of his brow, however, quickly follows. Eddie groans in frustration and guides the bottle closer to his face as he squints. “Fuck.”

“What?” Richie asks, looking up from his own board of partially-chopped vegetables.

“What does the expiration date say?” Eddie extends the olive oil towards Richie but keeps his gaze focused on the counter, refusing to meet the man's eyes.

There’s a smirk on Richie’s face, Eddie just _knows_ it. “Not a fucking word, Richie.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“But you’re _thinking_ it,” Eddie snaps before shooting a daring glance at his boyfriend.

Richie pauses, considering. A playful smile appears on his face as he studies the bottle in his grasp. “Yeah, I was.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Eddie, my love,” Richie starts, his teasing tone quickly replaced with something more genuine, “It’s perfectly normal to need reading glasses when you get to be our age.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Uh, actually I _will_ keep reminding you. Because you need them.”

“I’m fine without them.”

“Hm, alright,” Richie replies in a neutral tone, turning back to his vegetables. He pops open the olive oil cap and drizzles it over his bowl. “The expiration date was over a year ago, by the way.”

“And you’re _using_ it?!” Eddie snaps, eyes wide as he lunges forward to snatch the sleeve of Richie’s sweater. “ _What the fuck is wrong with you?_ ”

Breaking into a fit of laughter, Richie topples over with one hand along the counter and the other clutching his stomach. “Oh my god, Eds, I was _kidding_ -”

Anger boils in Eddie’s chest as he catches on as he crosses both arms over his chest and huffs. “Asshole.”

“ _No_ , I was proving a point.”

“What point?”

“That you shouldn’t rely on someone else to read shit for you!” Raising his eyebrows, as if daring Eddie to argue his point, Richie stands with both hands on his hips. “I’ve had glasses since I was like, five, I just don’t see what the big deal is about needing them at forty-three.”

Eddie sighs, defeated. “It just makes me feel old, okay?”

”Eddie, baby, we _are_ old.”

“You know what I mean.”

A somber glisten of Richie’s eyes. Enough of a sign to ensure Eddie that he _does_ understand. Every ache of their bodies, every new grey hair. Physical signs of their age that double as a constant reminder of the many years they lost together. 

“We can’t stop time, Eds,” Richie says, voice low as he extends both hands to cup Eddie’s face, “Don’t beat yourself up over the things we can’t change.”

Eyes glassy, Eddie nods reluctantly. He shifts to place a tender kiss against one of Richie’s palms, reaching up to grasp the man’s wrists. “I know, I’m trying. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Richie beams, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on Eddie’s lips, “Even when you’re a stubborn little shit.”

“That‘s good, then.” Giving Richie’s wrists one final squeeze, Eddie smirks and pulls away to return to his vegetables. “Someone as stubborn as me is pretty hard to get rid of.”

“It’s alright, that’s not part of the plan.”

A rush of adrenaline, overwhelmingly strong, floods Eddie’s chest as the words conjure memories of what happened in their closet earlier today. They play on a loop in his mind, making Eddie suddenly question the tone of the conversation. 

Richie wasn’t just implying he wants to spend the rest of his life with Eddie, right?

Eddie ponders it as Richie snatches both bowls of vegetables, seemingly unaware of his boyfriend’s silent dilemma. He ponders it through the time it takes to cook the pasta, blend the sauce, and bake the dish. Even at the dinner table, Eddie finds himself searching Richie’s face for any sign that would tell him what he’s thinking. 

Frustration only builds when Eddie’s attempts to read Richie for clues remain futile. Now, Eddie finds himself questioning every interaction they’ve had this month, searching for something he’d initially missed in Richie’s behavior towards him.

And yet, nothing unusual comes to mind. 

“You got something against that broccoli?” Richie asks with an amused expression as he watches Eddie nudge the floret around the otherwise empty plate with his fork. 

Eddie huffs a tired laugh, pulled from his thoughts. “Yeah, he looked at me weird so I ate all of his friends.”

Richie chuckles, stabbing the broccoli with his fork and closing his mouth around it. “Saved you.”

“My hero.”

A short, comfortable silence follows.

“Oh!” Richie perks up in his seat, eyes widening with excitement as an apparent recollection crosses his face. “I got you something. Stay here.”

Eddie freezes, watching Richie stride down the hall that leads to their bedroom. Time slows. His heart starts to thud so loudly he’s certain Richie can hear it, even from another room over. A shiver runs down Eddie’s back as he pushes away from the table, eyes locked on the archway Richie disappeared to. 

Did Richie really mean what he said before? About his intentions to never part from Eddie? Did he-

Richie returns with the sweatshirt he’d worn out today wrapped in his arms, an adoring smile growing on his face. “I was gonna save this for tomorrow morning,” He says, reaching somewhere beneath the crumpled piece of clothing, “But I know you got a little bummed earlier so I thought maybe you’d like it now. You know, to cheer you up.”

Eddie holds his breath. 

A small brown package appears in Richie’s hand, and Eddie quickly recognizes it as the paper packaging from the bakery down the street. 

Of course it’s not the fucking ring.

Richie’s surprises are much grander than a simple night of staying in and eating a homemade dinner.

Idiot.

“I got your favorite,” Richie smiles warmly, holding out the large White Chocolate Macadamia Nut cookie.

The gesture leaves Eddie feeling lovestruck, despite the spikes of anxiety that’d washed over him just moments prior. He takes the cookie gladly, a love as warm as fire building in his chest. Nobody’s as thoughtful as Richie. And Eddie gets to have this wonderful man all to himself and, maybe one day soon, he’d have that ring on his finger to prove it. 

But for now, this is more than enough. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Slipping the cookie from its package, Eddie breaks it down the middle and offers the larger half to Richie. The man shakes his head, however, and reaches around to snag the smaller piece from Eddie’s grasp. If that isn’t real love, Eddie doesn’t know what is.

They each take a bite, eyes gleaming with an unspoken fondness. 

_Maybe next time_ , Eddie supposes, images of the golden band repeatedly flashing in his mind.

But with his luck? Probably not.

  


* * *

  


A flash of light in the corner of his eye draws Eddie’s attention away from his book. His phone brightens again beside him when he turns, illuminating a handful of unread texts from Beverly—

— _Shit_. 

Eddie forgot to text her back.

Chancing a glance at Richie, who is too preoccupied with watching cat videos on his side of the bed, Eddie snatches up his phone to reply. 

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: hey are you alive**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: blink twice if you're reading these**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: on a scale from 1 to 10 how quickly should i be purchasing a plane ticket to come resuscitate you**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: eddieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: don't make me call richie you know i’ll do it**

**Sorry. I forgot. I’m the worst.**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: you lucky, lucky bastard. i had my finger hovering over the call button for richie right when you texted that

Well I’m sorry for having a very stressful day and not texting you back right away!

Bev ❤️🧡💛: how bad was it? i’m assuming he didn’t find out because i would’ve heard from you much sooner if he had…

No, he didn’t. Not that I know of, at least. I managed to get the bag back on the shelf, but I have no clue whether I put all of his stuff back where it originally was or not.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: something tells me that richie won’t pay close enough attention to notice if things moved around a bit

I hope you’re right.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: how’d it go after that?**

Eddie stops mid-response when Richie leans over on the bed and shoves his phone right in front of his face. “Eddie,” He snickers, rewinding the video twenty seconds with his thumb, “Watch this one.” 

An amused smile grows on Eddie’s face as he watches a low-quality video of a tiny orange and white kitten getting its very first bath. Richie cackles from beside him as they watch, the sound more pleasing than the video itself. 

“That was cute,” Eddie replies, waiting for Richie to return to his side of the bed before opening his texts to Bev.

“I know, right?” Richie smiles. He curls back up beneath the covers and resumes his marathon, completely buried under blankets aside from his nose and eyes. 

Eddie grins at the sight before turning back to his phone.

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: eddie come back 😭😭**

**Cut me some slack, Richie is right beside me. I had to hide my phone from him just now.**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: okay fine 🙄**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: you didn’t answer before, how did the rest of your night go??**

**Fine, I guess. I thought he was gonna propose for a minute when he walked off to the bedroom to grab something he bought for me. Nearly passed out on the spot until I realized it was just a cookie. Not a ring.**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: oh wow

Yeah, I know.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: this really is gonna eat you alive huh

DID YOU THINK I WAS JOKING BEFORE?

Bev ❤️🧡💛: maybe a tiny tiny bit yes

How am I supposed to keep doing this, Bev?! I thought the cookie was a fucking engagement ring!!

Bev ❤️🧡💛: do it for richie. simple as that. imagine how happy he’ll be when he finally asks you with whatever way he’s planning to

Yeah. Okay. I’ll try.

Still fucking sucks, though.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: correct!

🙄🙄🙄

Bev ❤️🧡💛: sweet dreams loverboy

Goodnight, Bev.

**

Eddie sets his phone and book on his nightstand, carefully leaning over the bed’s edge to flick off the lamp. The room is suddenly swallowed by darkness, aside from the dim glow of Richie’s phone. Eddie sighs, content. Or content as he can be knowing his future engagement ring lies just beyond the adjacent closet door.

Inching across the bed, Eddie latches onto Richie and nudges his head onto the man’s chest. Richie half-smiles, eyes trained on the tiny black cat dancing across his screen, before wrapping a secure arm around Eddie’s back. 

Minutes pass like this. 

It’s a welcoming quiet marred only by their steady breaths and soft chuckles. Delicate sounds that, within another hour, ease the pair into a deep sleep, still entangled in each other’s arms.

  


* * *

  


Snow crunches loudly beneath the car’s tires as Richie steers into their driveway. A low groan falls from his parted lips. “I gotta clear the driveway again.” 

Eddie leans closer to the window to get a better look at the fresh coat of white concealing their path. With his heart already set on snuggling up against Richie by the fire once they’re inside, Eddie folds both arms across his chest and huffs. “You can do it later.”

“No fucking way, dude,” Richie snorts, throwing a teasing look towards Eddie, “Not after last time.” 

Eddie blushes at the memory.

Richie spots it and snickers. 

“Not that I don’t love you pouncing me on the couch, Eds, don’t get me wrong,” He notes with another glance in Eddie’s direction, “But I also _don’t_ love getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to clear the driveway because you had me pinned down against the cushions all night.”

“You didn’t care then.”

“ _I_ didn’t care,” Richie specifies as he brings the car to a stop beside the pavement leading towards the front door. He slumps against his seat and wriggles while pointing a thumb towards his shoulders. “But my _back_ , on the other hand, fucking _despised_ me for that.”

“You should be more worried about your knee than your back, Rich.”

“ _Excuse_ you, my Robo-knee is fantastic and could easily handle shoveling again,” Richie shoots back, referring to the knee replacement he’d gotten just a few short weeks after his rough landing from the deadlights in Derry. “My _back_ , however, which is boringly _not_ cyborg-esque, would really appreciate it if I didn’t wait for more snow to build up before shoveling…”

“What if I give you a massage after?”

“You’re a bad influence.”

“Why thank you,” Eddie beams with pride at the remark, “I’m really trying, here.”

“Yeah I can see th— wait, are you— are you making _puppy dog eyes at me?!_ ”

Eddie purses his lips. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“Is it working?”

With another loud groan, Richie rubs both hands over his face, his stare gradually shifting towards Eddie as they sit in silence. There’s a very real struggle in Richie’s eyes; Eddie thinks he’s won the battle until Richie sighs and slips out of the car. He sticks his head back in before shutting the door and adds, “I’m leaving the car here for now so I can get the snowblower out.”

A disappointed sigh.

Richie circles the car, stopping once to grab Eddie’s forearm crutches from the floor behind his seat. He’s waiting, ready to carefully hand them off once Eddie gets his footing. It’s a little slippery with the snow, however, so Eddie doesn’t mind when Richie keeps a hand on his back as they gradually make their way towards the front door. 

It took a year of physical therapy for Eddie to _stand_ on his own after his injury, let alone walk. 

Those days were hardest, without a doubt. He’d asked Myra for a divorce, quit his job in New York, and was more than ready to create a new life for himself. And yet, after finally gaining the independence he longed for, Eddie found himself bedridden. 

Bedridden, but alive, at least.

And surrounded by people who cared for him like family. 

Even so, most days were difficult. And not in the way Eddie expected. It took twice as long to improve his mental health than it did his body, with the constant belief he was nothing but a burden floating in his head for _months_ after Derry. Eddie could barely sit up on his own at the start. He couldn’t cook meals for himself. Or change his clothes, or bathe, or use the goddamn toilet on his own. 

In simplest terms, it made Eddie feel weak. 

Utterly humiliated, more than anything else. 

So once Eddie got discharged from the hospital, he was reluctant to accept Ben’s offer to move to his single-story home in Buffalo. And when Beverly convinced Eddie otherwise, an all new fear took its place once Richie volunteered to move in with them as well. 

Caught up in his unconfessed feelings, Eddie wouldn’t let Richie in the room when he had to do things like change his bandages, do his leg exercises, or clean his stupid fucking catheter. Days passed before he did the same to Ben, followed by Beverly another week after. Eddie was determined to do it all himself; He wanted to prove that he could without being coddled like he was by his mother and ex-wife.

But Eddie knows now, after too many torturous days and nights alone, that he feels no stronger that way. That the only thing holding him back from improving at the time was a notion that Eddie should separate himself from the friends he’d already lost too much time with. 

Overcoming _that_ made him feel stronger than he ever did without crutches or a wheelchair.

“Doing alright, Eds?” Richie asks from beside him, leaning forward to catch Eddie’s gaze. 

Eddie nods and keeps walking. 

“Good.”

Richie’s hand slips from Eddie’s back, and Eddie thinks nothing of it. They’re almost at the front door, so he’s probably rummaging through his pockets to find the key. But then, Richie’s voice sounds from behind him. “Hey Spaghetti, wait a sec.”

Sirens blare in Eddie’s head when he turns to find Richie kneeling down on the snow-covered path. His arms are behind his back, shifting and jerking every few seconds. _Like he’s pulling an engagement ring from his fucking back-pocket,_ Eddie thinks to himself.

As if on cue, Richie stops fidgeting and sits up straight with both hands still clasped behind his back, clearly holding something. Fuck, is this it? This has to be it, what else could he be holding?

Act natural, Kaspbrak.

“What the fuck are you doing? Your pants are gonna be _soaking_ wet now, dipshit.”

Nailed it.

“Zip it. I have something for you.”

Oh fuck. Is this happening, _is this really fucking happening_ -

“Wh-”

Eddie never gets his question out before a loosely-packed snowball strikes him right in the face. And Eddie, he’s going to fucking _annihilate_ Richie for putting him through this shit not once, but _twice_.

“ _Richard Tozier!_ ”

And Richie will think it’s just because of the stupid snowball.

“You better fucking _run!_ ”

Loud, bellowing laughter cuts through the cold air, the sound driving Eddie towards his boyfriend. He’s not as fast as he once was, but it only takes seconds for Eddie to press his weight into one crutch and fling a spray of snow back at Richie with a swing of the other.

“Oh, shit-” Richie gasps between laughs, glancing to where a majority of the snow landed beside him. He moves to clutch his stomach and cackles even louder when Eddie shoots him a furious glare. “You kinda missed me there, Eds.”

Oh, _that_ fucking does it.

“Miss _this_ , asshole!” Eddie shouts, taking another step closer before chucking an entire crutch directly at Richie. 

“What the _fuck!_ ” It strikes him square in the chest. Richie topples over, falling backwards into the snow with a muffled thud and a loud _Oof!_ He lies there, panting, as he tosses the crutch beside him. “That was brutal, Eds-”

Eddie laughs with him this time.

Forgetting about his missing crutch, Eddie shifts his weight and stumbles. The thick layer of snow catches Eddie’s forward fall as he lands right beside Richie. Something warm swells in his heart when Richie shoots him a quick and silent look of concern; It’s instantly replaced with a grin once Eddie offers a reassuring nod.

“You’re insane,” Richie chuckles. He twists his torso to hover partially above Eddie, leaning down until they’re face-to-face.

“You provoked me.”

“And I will gladly do so again, my love.” Pink noses brushing, Richie sneaks in for a quick peck on the lips and smiles into it.

“I think you have a complex.”

“There is _no_ reason for you to be that sexy when you’re angry with me.”

“And here you are calling _me_ insane,” Eddie notes with a teasing demeanor. Unable to stop himself, he yanks Richie down for a much deeper kiss. A burst of warmth erupts in his stomach at the gesture. While welcoming, it does well to remind Eddie of the growing chill in his extremities. 

The sensation elicits a wince that doesn’t go unnoticed by Richie.

“You okay, honey?”

A breathless laugh from Eddie. “Yeah, I just don’t think my joints enjoy being this cold.”

“Alright,” Richie huffs as he backs off of Eddie and stands, “Let’s get you inside.” 

Sitting up, Eddie shivers as the crisp breeze runs over the back of his now-soaked jacket. He reaches out to grasp both crutches, propping them on either side of his waist. Pressing down, Eddie grunts and pulls his torso up a few inches, only to slump back down against the cold ground. 

His second attempt ends the same way. 

“Eds…”

Eddie knows that voice, and he knows the expression it’s always paired with before he even meets Richie’s gaze. A tone of hesitant concern in his words, a gleam of uncertainty in his eyes. Frozen where he sits, Eddie watches as Richie extends two open hands before him. 

It’s not the first time he’s found himself in this position. 

That memory feels like another life ago. And in some ways, maybe it was. A time when Eddie’s thoughts were still clouded with a false depiction of weakness in regards to his inability to do nearly anything on his own. But all of that changed, however, the night Richie found Eddie laying naked on the bathroom floor, having fallen while trying to get to his bench in the shower on his own.

Eddie screamed at him to get out.

Richie didn’t listen. 

Instead, he simply grabbed a towel from the rack and helped cover Eddie up. A heavy silence followed as Richie sank to the floor beside him, met his eyes, and uttered, _I remember, you know._

_Remember what?_

_What you did. To get me out of the Deadlights._ Richie smiled sadly at the petrified expression taking over Eddie’s face. Then he peered down, eyes tired, as he traced a single knuckle along Eddie’s towel, hovering just above his freshly-healed scar. _I’d kiss this all away if I could, Eds._

_Richie, listen, I’m— I’m sorry I—_

_What the fuck for, Eddie? You saved my life back there._

_I never told you that I did that. I— I thought you didn’t remember. Why didn’t you say anything?_

A pause. _Because I thought you wanted to forget it happened._

Eddie still remembers the blow of hearing those words from Richie. It stung in his chest, a different kind of pain than anything he’d felt since Derry. This was immovable, rooted deep inside his heart. _No_ , Eddie had answered quickly, frantically, _Never._

Richie stared. 

He stared back for what felt like another twenty-seven years.

Then, Richie shoved aside whatever trepidations clouded his judgement and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. It was hesitant, soft, but filled with more emotion than Eddie could comprehend at once. The only one he knew for certain was a fondness stronger than anything he’d ever felt for another person in his life.

The second blow to Eddie’s heart happened as they finally parted, when his own loving smile was met with Richie in anguished tears.

 _Eddie, why won’t— w-why-_ Richie broke off into a startling fit of sobs, the pain in his voice overwhelmingly striking. He could barely breathe, hiccuping and choking on his own spit as he failed to steady his harsh intakes of air.

_Richie? Tell me what’s wrong— Richie, please-_

The words Richie spoke next are, to this day, seared into Eddie’s mind. A moment that finally snapped him out of his toxic mindset that infested his thoughts like weeds.

_...Eddie w-why...why w-won’t you let me t-t-take care of you?_

It was like a wall finally broke between them, both physical and mental, as Eddie surged forwards and pulled Richie into his arms. They cried together, offering wordless apologies through strokes of the hair and squeezes of the hand. 

Then, once they’d settled down, Richie stood and offered both hands...

...and Eddie took them.

Peering up at Richie from the snow-laden ground, three years later, Eddie sees the same silent look in Richie’s eyes now that he did back then. One of genuine concern. An expression that begs him, _Please don’t do this alone when I’m right here to help you._

“Thanks,” Eddie says, wearing a subtle smile that speaks volumes to Richie. He takes a moment to catch his breath and places both hands atop his boyfriend’s. 

Once inside, Richie abandons Eddie’s crutches on the rug and scoops him up bridal-style. 

Eddie gasps in surprise, but is quick to settle down once he feels the heat of Richie’s chest against his side. He smiles softly to himself, chuckling when Richie cranes his neck to kiss his forehead. 

“Where to?” Richie quirks an eyebrow. 

A short pause. “I think I could really use a warm bath right about now.”

Richie hums in agreement. He toes off his boots by the door, having already faced the wrath of Eddie the one time he stepped off the rug still wearing them. “What about the driveway?” 

“Fuck the driveway.”

“Well that doesn’t sound very sexy _or_ sanitary.” 

“You’re just as soaked as me, Rich. You’ll make yourself sick if you don’t warm up first,” Eddie groans in annoyance, not willing to part with Richie’s heat. He wraps both arms around the man’s neck and gives a light squeeze for emphasis. “Take a bath with me.”

Richie hesitates. 

“ _Please_ , Rich?” Eddie practically whines. Then, an idea strikes; Richie finds his neck under attack by Eddie’s mouth just moments later. Eddie flips between nibbling and licking, targeting the spots that drive Richie crazy the fastest. 

A sharp gasp slips past Richie’s lips. “Dammit, Eds.”

Eddie lightly bites down on a juncture and sucks.

“ _Fuck—_ fine, okay, okay,” Richie breathes readily, slipping through the wide doorway of the master bathroom with Eddie still in his arms. “I’ll see if those kids a few doors down will do it if I pay enough.”

“That’s more like it, bub.”

Eddie’s anger from before, though entirely playful, is completely forgotten by the time Richie has him sitting on the large tub‘s edge. _Next time_ , He thinks to himself, dwelling happily on the trust they’ve built over their many months, their _years_ of healing. _Next time, for sure._

  


* * *

  


It’s been nearly two weeks since Eddie first found the ring. And since then, another half-dozen instances in which Eddie thought Richie was finally ready to pop the question. 

Like the day they baked those Christmas cookies together, lights turned low with festive music playing. Or the night Richie got home late with a large package in his hands, which turned out to be some of the gifts he ordered their friends. Or the day Richie waited until Eddie was done with his conference calls for work before dragging him out to go shopping. And all of those times Richie stared at him from across their bed with that same dorky grin on his face, mouth ajar like he had something more to say. 

It’s not Eddie’s fault if he’s a little on edge, and it’s most certainly not his fault if he chooses to put all of that pent-up energy to good use.

Richie has yet to complain about their new streak of morning sex, _or_ their complimentary streak of late afternoon sex.

Even now, as Eddie slips inside him for the _second_ time today, all Richie can bring himself to do is whimper in anticipation for what’s next. Eddie smirks, slightly out-of-breath, and swims in the feeling of Richie’s weight pinning him to the mattress as the man carefully sinks down. 

They pause to adjust. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Richie gasps once he’s fully seated. A visible shudder runs up his back when Eddie slowly circles his hips beneath him. “Ready, honey?”

Eddie nods from where he lays.

Then, Richie moves. 

He starts slow, like he always does. A gradual but rhythmic shift of his hips that makes Eddie’s center burn with a low roar of desire. Sex with his injury was extremely difficult to navigate, particularly at the start. The only good things that really came out of the dragged-out process was the anticipation of being able to do more as Eddie gained his strength, as well as a chance for Eddie to explore what he liked at as slow of a pace as he needed. 

But it was all so worth the torturous wait.

Their movements pick up pace as the heat between them builds; Eddie finds himself transfixed at the sight of Richie losing himself to pleasure right above him. His face is flushed red and stretches down to his bare chest, he pants as he moves, a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead. They’ve been at it for a while now, playing a constant back-and-forth game of working each other up. 

“Feel good, Rich?” Eddie’s hands make their way up to grip his boyfriend’s waist before he shifts his legs and plants both feet against the mattress. The mobility of his legs is very limited, especially when it comes to sex, but Eddie’s acquired enough strength over the years of his recovery. It’s made all the difference.

“So good, Eddie, baby, _shit_ -” Richie’s breath hitches when Eddie starts to rock his hips to the best of his ability, effortlessly timed with Richie’s movements. “You feel so good, _so fucking amazing_ -”

Richie’s close. 

Eddie can tell from the way his eyes scrunch behind his glasses, and how his whimpers jump in pitch as they slip past clenched teeth. Using the strength he has left, Eddie thrusts up with more force, watching as his boyfriend’s expression contorts in growing pleasure with every movement.

Eddie, however...isn’t there yet.

As a result of his injury, it takes much longer for Eddie to climax than it used to; He also requires much more physical stimulation compared to before. Spoken words can’t do it for him anymore. Even with Richie whispering the dirtiest, most arousing comments in his ears, Eddie can’t get it up without that physical touch. 

But the adjustment period for this change wasn’t terribly long.

Richie is very handsy.

“Eddie, I— _Oh_ , honey I’m so close-” Richie clenches around Eddie, eliciting a loud gasp from both of them. Eddie takes Richie in his hands seconds later, firmly stroking him until he’s finally sent over the edge. 

“Come on me, Rich.”

Richie’s eyes shoot open as his body goes rigid. He spills onto Eddie’s stomach and hand, climax washing over him and drawing out a shiver. Eddie strokes him through it, only slowly backing off when Richie winces and paws at his wrist. 

“Shit, I love you,” Richie pants. 

Eddie offers a half-lidded smile in return. “Love you, too, bub.”

Richie runs a hand through his hair as he eyes the mess he left on Eddie’s abdomen. He moves to pull off, which elicits a frustrated moan from Eddie that makes him chuckle. “Hey, come here,” Richie says with a grin, shifting to lean closer to his boyfriend, “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

Eddie opens his mouth to utter a quick _I know you do_ , but all that comes out is a frantic and high-pitched “ _Please_ -”

“I’ve got you, Eddie,” Richie repeats. 

His eyes flick downwards, landing on the neon-colored cock ring sitting at the base of Eddie’s dick. A solution to yet another complication from his injury; The only way for Eddie to hold an erection long enough to top is when he wears the ring. Something to do with keeping his blood there longer, he remembers reading. 

“Let’s get this off, yeah?”

Eddie nods furiously, gripping the sheets in tight fists. He’s desperate for more stimulation to push him closer to his climax. An open-mouth gasp builds in his throat when he finally feels Richie carefully slide the ring up and off his length. 

Richie’s on him in an instant.

He smirks at the sound of Eddie’s sharp gasp when he runs a finger through the cum on his stomach and wraps that same hand around his dick. Even if Eddie never admits it out loud, he _adores_ the messiness of it. 

They both know it.

Strong ripples of pleasure surge from Eddie’s crotch, but he can tell it’s still not enough. If it were anyone but Richie, he’d be too afraid to ask. Embarrassed, even. But going through what he has with Richie only solidified their trust. Eddie knows Richie would never judge or shame him, and that his patience will never fall short.

And Eddie loves him for it.

“Rich, I-” Eddie starts, still struggling to ask for what he needs aloud after all this time. But Richie, he always knows exactly what Eddie is trying to say. “Richie, I need—”

_—I need you to touch me more. I can’t get there unless you give me more._

Richie nods in understanding, a tender smile tugging at his mouth, before ducking his head to trace trails on Eddie’s neck with his tongue. He strokes Eddie with a growing speed as he uses his free hand to play with the man’s nipples. 

And it’s exactly what Eddie needed. 

“ _Oh,_ fuck.” Breathing harshly, Eddie wraps both arms around Richie and pulls him closer, fingers digging into his back and hair. “ _Sweetheart-_ ”

“That’s it, baby, let me see you.”

“Rich, _fuck_ — I’m gonna-”

“Let go for me, Eddie,” Richie huffs against his skin, hot and frantic, “I’ve got you.”

A rush of adrenaline swells in Eddie’s abdomen as his orgasm hits, sharp and even more intense than his first one this morning. He shouts, a mix of curses and Richie’s name again and again, as Richie continues the movements of his hand. Eddie shivers when he feels himself leak onto Richie’s fist, still basking in the aftershocks of climax. 

When Richie finally retracts his hand, there isn’t much to wipe away. One final adjustment Eddie had to learn to accept during his extended recovery. 

Eddie can’t really come anymore. 

Sometimes there’ll be a bit here or there when he’s exceptionally aroused, but more often than not, Eddie comes dry. He struggled with this change just as much as he had with the others. Though once Eddie could see that Richie didn’t care about those things, and that he only cared about making Eddie feel good, things got much easier.

Everything’s easier with Richie.

“Still with me, Eds?” 

Eddie drapes an arm over his eyes and cracks a smile. “Nope.”

“That’s a shame,” Richie remarks dismally. He leans back and lets himself fall onto the bed beside Eddie once he snatches a tissue to wipe him off. “We could’ve gone for round three.”

“Round three _my ass_ -“

“Oh, good idea. Because I don’t think _my_ ass can take ano-“

“You know what I fucking meant,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes annoyedly. He huffs an exhausted chuckle and shifts his arm to peer towards Richie. “We’re forty three, Richie. We were lucky to even have a round two before dinner—”

—Eddie says, as if they hadn’t been doing this nearly every day for the past week.

Richie laughs as his eyes travel to his hand, spotting a portion of the mess Eddie left that he failed to wipe away. Without hesitating, brings it up to his mouth and licks it clean. 

“Gross.” 

Cackling in amusement, Richie surges forward and seals his lips against Eddie’s. He laughs into it when Eddie kisses back eagerly, hands already roaming Richie’s back to pull him closer. 

“Gross, huh?” Richie teases between breaths. 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“You love it.”

“I love _you_ ,” Eddie says, suddenly serious. His eyes glisten with a fondness that’s beyond words, overly-grateful to have found someone he feels so safe with. A single, reassuring smile from Richie is all it ever takes to vanquish the self-conscious thoughts that lurk in Eddie’s mind. 

Richie touches him in such a way that doesn’t make him feel fragile, but treasured beyond belief. He kisses him like he can never get enough. Speaks to him like he always had, a mix of love of jest that makes Eddie want to scream and hold onto him forever. Richie looks at him… 

...and he feels beautiful.

“I love you, too.” Richie leans forward to peck Eddie’s nose, before he repeats the same gesture across his forehead. “Hey Eds?”

Eddie frowns. “Hm?”

“I-” Voice trailing off, Richie’s smile fades and is replaced with a pondering expression. “You know I…”

It’s a look Eddie’s noticed many times over the past two weeks. His heartbeat jumps when he sees it, a natural and visceral reaction he’s developed since finding that stupid ring. If only the rational side of his thoughts would stop turning to fog every time this happens. 

Eddie knows Richie wouldn’t propose to him like this. Sweaty, out-of-breath, minds still drifting in the clouds post-orgasm. Eddie _knows_ this isn’t it, and yet…

...Eddie can’t fight away the pooling curiosity in his mind that whispers _But what if this_ is _it?_

“Rich?” Eddie utters with a gentle nudge to Richie’s shoulder, mind racing. 

“Sorry, I-“ Something changes in Richie’s eyes. A flicker of uncertainty before he relaxes, expression softening as he pushes whatever he was thinking aside. He brings a knuckle to Eddie’s cheek and traces down the side. “-I just really love you, Eds. Like I really, _really_ , love you.”

An expression of both a frown and a smile flashes across Eddie’s face. There’s something in Richie’s tone that Eddie doesn’t recognize, almost like he’s desperate to make sure Eddie’s aware of his feelings. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Rich.”

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” Eddie quirks an eyebrow, a light scoff in his voice. “Did you not already know that’s how I feel about you?”

Richie shrugs as he plays with one of Eddie’s hands in both of his own. “I don’t know.”

“Then I’ll just keep saying it until you believe me.” With a tired but content sigh, Eddie inches closer to Richie until they’re face-to-face. He touches their foreheads together with a gentle brush and holds either side of Richie’s flushed face in both hands. “No one’s ever made me as happy as you make me feel every day.”

The quietest of chuckles falls from Richie’s mouth as he smiles. “Yeah?”

“Sweetheart...you’re my favorite person.”

Leaning forward, Richie presses his lips to Eddie’s and seals a tender kiss, the gesture lacking in haste. It’s drawn-out, deep, and exuding a sense of security that can’t be put into words. A reminder that, to Eddie, his true home is not a place, but a person.

Richie grins when they part and raises an open hand to caress his boyfriend’s face. As Eddie searches his steady gaze, his expression shifts again to one of much greater confidence. Almost as if there’d been a question lurking behind Richie’s words, and that Eddie suddenly answered it.

“You’re mine, too.”

Eddie’s heart is still fluttering when they finally move to change the sheets, unsure whether to pin it on their heartfelt confessions of love, or the unspoken question he’d seen in Richie’s eyes. 

He can only hope he’ll find out soon.

  


* * *

  


A loud pop, a series of crackles.

The fireplace glows orange, illuminating the room with a low and pleasant light. Feet entangled with Richie’s, Eddie rests on the couch with his phone nestled in his lap. He checks his texts to see a slew of unread messages left by Beverly from earlier that day. 

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: any update**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: ben left for his business trip yesterday 😭**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: you haven't texted since yesterday i’m so lonely**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: where are you**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: eddieeeeeeeeeeee**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: you better be getting laid right now**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: that’s the only acceptable excuse for not texting me back all day kaspbrak 🔪**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: oh and i guess if richie is finally proposing to you...that’d be acceptable too**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: okay i’ll stop but you better text me back**

**I’m back.**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: EDDIE 💕

Hi.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: i was actually starting to get a tiny bit concerned

I’m fine! And I have an acceptable excuse.

Two of them, actually. 🙂

Bev ❤️🧡💛: you are too horny for your own good

Hey, I’m making up for the years I spent thinking I was straight and feeling the opposite of that. I’m allowed to be a little horny!

Plus I’m stressed and it’s Richie’s fault.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: it’s not his fault you found the ring before you were meant to 🤨

It’s his fault for not proposing yet.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: honey he’s probably nervous out of his mind

You’re probably right. I would be too, I guess.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: you know how he can get

Yeah. I think he’s freaking himself out a little. He sounded surprised when I kept implying he makes me feel things nobody else ever has before.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: keep saying it**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: i love richie but it’s damn near impossible to convince him of something if he isn’t 100% positive about it himself**

**I think that might be it. I don’t know what more I could do that I’m not already doing, though.**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: just be there eddie**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: what’s the rush, anyways? you both already act like you’re married when i see you**

**I don’t know. I’d still be so happy with him even if he never proposed. I just really want it to be official, you know? I want everyone else to know about it. But above anything, I want to be able to call him my husband.**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: he’ll propose when he’s ready

I hope it’s soon.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: i’m sure it will be 💕**

“What are you doing, baby?” 

Eddie’s head shoots up as he frantically tries to maintain some form of composure. The irrational fear of Richie being able to read his texts from the other side of the couch sends a shiver down his back.

“Texting Bev, why?” Eddie questions nervously.

“Dude, you’re holding your phone like an inch from your face,” Richie notes with an amused grin. He gestures to the hand that’s holding Eddie’s phone, watching as the man slowly draws it away from himself and frowns down at it. “Did you not notice?”

“I…” Eddie starts, a perplexed expression washing over his face. “I guess not.”

“Reading glasses would help with that, you know.”

Eddie sighs loudly. “Maybe…”

“I can’t believe you’re not even a little bit curious about what you’d look like with glasses,” Richie adds with a gesture towards Eddie. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he takes in Eddie’s neutral gaze. “Oh come on, you’d look so hot.”

“Really?”

“Are you shitting me? _Yes_ , Eddie.” Richie digs his own phone out of his back pocket and starts furiously tapping away at the screen. “Here, hold on, lemme show you…”

Eddie gives in to curiosity and waits patiently for Richie to pass his phone across the couch. He takes it, expression wary, before he’s met with an entire online catalogue of men’s glasses frames. 

Most of them aren’t what he expected.

The frames he sees in person at the store are too colorful, with wild patterns that stand out in all the wrong ways. In contrast, this catalogue features a wide variety of very plain glasses that Eddie doesn’t immediately hate. It’s not until Eddie glances at the prices does he understand why these frames look so much better than the others he’s seen.

“These are expensive.”

Richie chuckles and nudges Eddie’s hip, who subconsciously flips to his side so Richie can slide in behind him. A relaxed sigh falls from Eddie’s mouth when he feels Richie’s chin on his shoulder. Two sturdy arms wrap around his torso moments later. “I thought you were supposed to be a numbers guy, Eds.”

“I _am_ ,” Eddie huffs, annoyed, “I literally have a minor in Mathematics.”

Richie shrugs against him. “Then you know there’s nothing wrong with investing more money in something you’ll use every day.”

“...Stop making sense.”

“Have you had a change of heart, my love?”

Another annoyed exhale through Eddie’s nose. “...Getting there.”

A warm laugh floods the room; Eddie feels Richie shake against him as his grip tightens by the slightest fraction. Then, a calming silence takes its place. Richie watches Eddie scroll through the catalogue, stopping every so often to zoom in on a particular pair. Nearly thirty minutes pass before a middle-aged model sporting a pair of glasses immediately catches Eddie’s eye. “What do you think of these ones?”

“Oh Eds, those—” Richie leans forward a bit, eyes darting between the image on the screen and Eddie’s curious expression. “—those are fucking _sexy_.”

Eddie snorts a laugh. “Can reading glasses even be that sexy? They’re _reading glasses_.”

The frames are very modern-looking, and would suit Eddie very well. Its shape is actually quite similar to Richie’s, except a bit thinner. A dark brown-black lines the top and stretches all the way back to the earpieces, while the portions beside and below the lenses are made of a thin, light-silver metal. 

“Well, if it’s my _sexy_ boyfriend wearing those frames, then yes. I find them to be very, _very_ sexy.”

Another amused chuckle, a shake of Eddie’s head. “If you say so.”

“You like those ones, honey?” Richie gives his boyfriend’s torso a light squeeze before pulling back a bit to meet his gaze. 

Eddie nods.

“See?” Richie plants a kiss to Eddie’s jaw, then another. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“Shut up.”

A snicker from Richie. “Make me.”

“Is that a challenge?” 

“We can make it one.” Richie’s lips form a smile against Eddie’s neck and elicits a visible shudder. “Any ideas?”

Eddie shifts his hips backwards on the couch, grinding right up on Richie’s front. There’s no way Eddie could get it up again today, he can tell. But that’s never stopped Richie from making him feel good before. Eddie needs it after all of the keyed-up energy that he’s accumulated since this afternoon.

Richie sucks in a sharp breath and moves his hands to grip Eddie’s waist. “Round three?”

Nodding, mouth hanging partially open, Eddie nods quickly. “Round three.”

“ _Fuck_ yes.”

  


* * *

  


Lights flash, bright and filled with color, as Richie steps onstage. The small crowd cheers until he makes it to the mic stand. The man smiles and waves. Eddie beams back and reflects his excitement, always thrilled to watch his boyfriend do something that he so thoroughly enjoys. Richie throws a pleased glance to where Eddie’s seated at a table nearest to the stage.

Richie winks before turning to greet his audience. “Well, I see some familiar faces out there tonight, so I guess that means I must’ve done _something_ right the last time I was here.”

The room swells with jubilant laughter.

Eddie hasn’t missed a single one of Richie’s shows since he first moved in with him. Even when he was still hospitalized, not yet strong enough to venture far from the building, Richie had a special camera rigged at every venue; A way for Eddie, as well as the other Losers, to watch all of his shows on a private stream. 

“I should give you all a disclaimer now before we jump in,” Richie smirks, removing the wireless microphone from its stand so he’s free to move about the stage, “I forgot to take my meds before we left home tonight. So if my ADHD makes me get super off-topic, it’s _Eddie’s_ job to yell at me until I swing back to where I left off.”

“What?” Eddie blurts out, loud enough for the entire room to hear. “No way dude, you’re on your own!”

“Eddie is my boyfriend, by the way. In case there’s any first-timers here.” Richie’s cackling to himself, facing the audience directly as he speaks. “As you can see, we’re perfectly made for each other.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie slumps back against his seat and struggles to conceal his smirk. “Fuck off!”

“He loves me so much.”

“Wait— I _do_ , though!”

“Aw, baby, I love you, too. Even after you chucked your entire crutch at me and knocked me over a few weeks ago.” 

Shocked and amused laughter follows, and Eddie can’t help but join in.

“Don’t make me do it again,” Eddie warns loudly. He flips his boyfriend off with one hand while hoisting one of his crutches in the air with the other. The audience members nearest him quietly snicker amongst themselves when Richie responds by blowing him a kiss. “Christ, you’re such a _dick_.”

“Look at that, he even knows my name! That’s like, soulmate shit, isn’t it?” Another snicker slips through Richie’s wide smile. He steals another glance towards Eddie, whose growing smile makes his eyes shine all the brighter under the stage lights.

“Richie.” Eddie’s voice is firm.

Eyebrows raised, Richie cups a hand over his eyes and peers down towards Eddie amongst the crowd. “Hm?”

“You’re off-track, bub.”

“Oh, shit,” Richie grins sheepishly, running a hand through his hair as he addresses the chuckling crowd. “See? Told you that’d happen. _And_ that he loves me.”

Another amused roll of Eddie’s eyes.

Adjusting his seat, Eddie makes himself comfortable and settles in for Richie’s hour-long performance. Richie’s done quite a few shows since Derry, but this is the first in over a month. Most of them are at much smaller venues than what he’d been used to. 

Richie prefers it this way. 

Smaller crowds who often return to watch him again, familiar venues that make everything feel more intimate and engaging. The growing sense of confidence Richie feels when those venues ask him to return.

It’s been so helpful for Richie to associate so many positive feelings with these memories, especially after he unconsciously tied his fear of returning to Derry to larger auditoriums and crowds. A full year passed before Richie felt completely comfortable in front of an audience again. Not just because he finally hit some breakthroughs in therapy, but also because of his journey of coming out as gay.

And having Eddie there, of course, was the biggest help of all. 

Richie adopted the habit of engaging with Eddie from onstage very early on. It helps to ease his nerves when they become too overwhelming. And Eddie? He surprisingly doesn’t mind it. If anything, he’s always eager for the chance to make Richie smile onstage. To watch that shimmer in his eyes when he turns back to face the crowd with a newfound confidence. 

“So anyways,” Richie continues as Eddie’s thoughts jump back to the present, “Probably ten minutes have passed at this point. It’s then that I _finally_ remember I own a fucking _cell phone_. So I pull it out, go to dial Eddie, and then instantly go through all five stages of grief once I realize I have to tell him I’m stuck in the stall of this public restroom with no toilet paper…”

Eddie laughs amusedly at the memory, leaning forwards to rest his chin atop one hand. He tucks the other arm along the table’s edge and reminisces on Richie’s many, many stories from their life together. 

It’s a solid set.

Richie holds the crowd’s attention with ease, doing a great job of balancing his stories and jokes of differing tones. There’s even a small new collection of pictures in the gallery of Eddie's phone by the end of the night, all of them featuring a candid photo of Richie beaming towards the audience.

But once Richie reaches the end of his set, he does something Eddie doesn’t expect. 

Richie keeps talking.

“Remember how I said it was me and Eddie’s three-year anniversary like a month and a half ago?” Richie asks the audience, his voice and demeanor suddenly shifting to something more reserved. The change immediately captures Eddie’s attention. That voice, _plus_ the mention of their anniversary…Eddie knows where this is going. 

Of _course_ he’d propose publicly.

And suddenly, it’s hard to hear Richie over the pounding thuds of Eddie’s heart in his chest.

“Well this is my first show since then,” Richie continues, without sparing a single glance in Eddie’s direction. He walks along the stage, gesturing wildly with his free hand, as the colored lights dance along his clothes and makes portions of it shimmer. “And I always like to embarass him a little when our day comes around.”

The audience members laugh softly, a few even clap. Most of them are able to relate in one way or another, Eddie’s sure.

“I’ll probably make a fool of myself right along with him, but oh well.” Laughing to himself, Richie beams towards the audience. There’s something new gleaming in his eyes. A look Eddie hasn’t seen before. “So I was in our closet the other day and I found something I’d nearly forgotten about…”

Oh my fucking god.

If Richie fucking _forgot_ he put the ring there, Eddie’s going to-

Flashing an overly-affectionate smile, Richie finally shifts his gaze to meet Eddie’s. His smile grows when they lock eyes and suddenly, Eddie is light-headed. He sits up straight, hands clenched in tight fists upon the table, eyes widening in shock. 

Then, Richie shifts his weight to pull something from his back-pocket. 

Time slows as Eddie eyes Richie’s closed fist, unable to stop himself from leaning closer to the stage when he attempts to get a better look. Eddie’s certain he’s about to pass out, held upright by nothing but pure adrenaline. An overwhelming wave of want— no, _need_ — washes over Eddie and elicits a shiver.

A want so strong it feels like a need. For Richie to be bound to Eddie in every way he can, and for every person they come across to know it.

To be a Tozier, officially.

Richie opens his palm and smiles down at the item, one that is definitely _not_ the ring-box Eddie found in their closet nearly a month ago. Holding it between two fingers, Richie extends his arm towards the audience. 

“If you can’t see what this is from your seat, it’s a pretty plain-looking acorn, but it’s not just _any_ acorn,” Richie explains with a soft voice. He turns it in hand, a fond expression on his face as he studies it closely. “Now I love nuts as much as the next guy—” A quick pause for a snort of a laugh, “—But this lil’ dude is actually kinda important to me.”

An acorn. 

This is a fucking joke, right?

“It was late September when Eddie and I took our first walk outside after his accident.” Voice growing even more tender, Richie re-tells the story of the day Eddie was finally able to go outside after surviving the ordeal at Derry. “The nurses sometimes let him open his window during summer, but it’s not the same as being outside for real, you know?”

Oh.

Eddie blinks, avidly listening despite the surge of mixed emotions colliding his chest like fireworks.

“And Eddie, he was so fucking _excited_ , like a little kid at four in the morning on Christmas day,” Richie laughs warmly at the memory, chancing another glance towards Eddie. It takes all the strength Eddie can muster to half-smile back as the crowd surrounding him joins in the laughter. “Man, he was practically bouncing in his wheelchair when we passed through those exit doors.”

...Oh.

Heart fluttering at the memory, Eddie feels the rest of the room fade away until it’s just him and Richie. He hasn’t thought about that day in months, but the excitement from leaving that building still floods Eddie with the most euphoric relief. 

“We weren’t allowed to go far since Eddie’s injuries were still pretty bad,” Richie adds quickly, “But I bundled him up in a hat, gloves, and a scarf so he’d stay nice n’ warm.” 

Eddie grins at the mention of the gesture.

“I pushed Eddie around to show him the leaves changing color, and I remember stopping at a bench for a while.” Richie’s eyes fall back to the acorn when he pauses, expression bittersweet but predominantly fond. “I’d just graduated from using a walker a few weeks prior, and I was still adjusting to my super rad metal knee replacement, which absolutely qualifies me to be a cyborg, by the way, even though Eddie says it _doesn’t_ —”

Richie directs a thumbs-down gesture in Eddie’s general direction.

“—Anyways, so we were sitting there, completely silent, when Eddie suddenly leaned over and plucked this little acorn from the ground. He just kinda stared at it for a while, and then, without a single word, Eddie reached over and placed it in my hand, closed my fist around it, and gave me a few pats.”

Eddie barely even recalls doing that, and it feels strange. A moment lost to Eddie’s faded memories, yet one that Richie clearly sees as incredibly important.

“So I know what you’re thinking. ‘Trashmouth, it’s just a stupid acorn and not any different from the millions of other acorns out there.’ But that’s the _thing_ —” Rolling the acorn around in his palm, Richie subtly smiles to himself, as if remembering the exact moment Eddie dropped it into his hand. “—You’re right! But now, this acorn was suddenly so fucking important because _Eddie_ picked it up and gave it to me. He looked at it and, for whatever reason, he thought of _me_ …”

The words stir something deep in Eddie’s heart as vague glimpses of that day flash in his mind. Stomach twisting as those memories rise to the surface, Eddie quickly understands the bittersweet gleam he sees in Richie’s eyes onstage.

“And with everything that’d happened to us that year…”

Richie’s eyes flick over to meet Eddie’s, their stares unfaltering as he speaks.

“...This silly little acorn was like a reminder that, no matter how long a fire burns, there’s always a chance to start over and make something beautiful.”

Eddie wants to scream.

He wants to scream, and cry, and laugh, and dance, and shout. He wants to tackle Richie, and to kiss him, and kick him, and hug him, and make him walk home in the snow. Eddie didn’t get the proposal he’s been waiting so desperately for, yet Richie’s fond recollection leaves him trembling with love so strong it makes him _furious_.

“Eddie, I never told you this, but I carried this little fucker in my pocket every single day until you moved in with me,” Richie admits in a lovestruck, carefree voice that makes Eddie’s heart double in size, “It was a way to still have you beside me, in a way.” 

Eddie wants to _scream_ with how incredibly in love he is with Richie Tozier. 

“I love you, Eds,” Richie chimes, beaming brighter than the morning sun, “And I never wanna leave your side for as long as I live.” 

… _Oh_.

Those last words echo back-and-forth in Eddie’s mind, inducing another rush so thrilling it completely washes away the disappointment of not being proposed to. Those fucking _words_...they essentially mean the same thing, right? Eddie wants to ask, he _plans_ on asking after he maneuvers through the small crowd on his crutches and gets permission to go backstage. 

But once he’s standing there, face-to-face with the love of his life, all Eddie can do is grin and tug the taller man down for a kiss. Richie jumps, caught off-guard, before wrapping both arms around Eddie’s waist and pressing closer. “Happy late anniversary, honey,” Richie pants as they part, foreheads still touching, “Hope you liked it.”

“Of course I did, you big sap,” Eddie smiles before stealing another quick kiss, “And I love you, too.”

  


* * *

  


It’s dark when Eddie wakes from his nap.

As much as he loves winter, one thing he hates is the shortened days. Even with the blinds closed, he can tell it’s pitch-black outside. But at this time of year? It could be five in the evening, or eleven at night. 

Eyes darting around the room, Eddie suddenly realizes that the eerie darkness isn’t just outside the house, but inside as well. A chill ripples down his back as he shifts on the bed and sees that the digital bedside clock isn’t on. Neither is the night-light at the far end of the wall; A necessity in the eyes of both forty-three year old men, who are still too weary of the dark to possibly fall asleep in it. 

Heart dropping, hands clenching, Eddie feels himself slip into the early stages of panic. The feeling is heightened when he discovers that Richie isn’t beside him, only to be washed away entirely in the moments that follow. There, sitting on Richie’s nightstand, is a small cluster of burning candles and a hand-written note. 

Eddie scoots over to snatch the paper up, holding it towards the soft golden glow of the candles to make out the writing. 

_Eddie -_

_Power went out from snowstorm. Should be back on soon. You are safe. In living room writing material if you need me._

_Richie_

A mixture of relief and fondness floods Eddie’s chest. Even years after Derry, the pair still goes out of their way to make sure their partner feels safe in situations that resemble those nights. But Richie isn’t here, and Eddie can’t ignore the instinctual pull to go find him. 

He needs to see for himself that Richie’s alright. 

After taking a moment to stretch and find his bearings, Eddie carefully transfers to his wheelchair in the darkness. It’s not impossible, but definitely a challenge without a clear sight of where he’s going. The wheelchair puts less strain on his arms than the crutches, so he almost always uses the chair while at home when he can. 

Eddie has the incredibly-talented Ben Marsh to thank for that. 

He helped design a custom one-story home similar to his own, featuring accomodations specifically tailored for Eddie. Extra-wide doorways, lowered kitchen counters, railings mounted along the walls, no stairs. Ben thought of it all, and without ever being asked to do so. 

Once settled, Eddie maneuvers around the bed and makes his way down the hall. It’s immediately apparent that Richie must’ve anticipated him waking up. Every few feet, there’s a small candle burning on a glass dish, or a flashlight propped up against some books. They’re spaced as far apart as they can go while still dimly illuminating the full length of the floor for Eddie to navigate. 

It’s eerily quiet. 

Harsh winds from the storm outside whistle across the covered windows, howling in the distance. The sound alone elicits another shudder. Even through their well-insulated walls, Eddie can already feel the slightest chill in the air from lack of a working heater. He wishes he’d brought his blanket with him. 

The floor groans under the weight of Eddie’s wheelchair as he rounds the corner. 

“Rich?” Eddie speaks softly, scanning the room until he spots the dozing figure of Richie on the couch. Richie lays on his back, sprawled out across the entire length of the cushions. His legs are tangled in a blanket, with his arms half-cradling a pile of scrap paper and a pencil to his chest. 

Eddie smiles, exhausted but lovestruck at the sight. 

Once he’s wheeled up to the couch, Eddie leans forward to place a light kiss on Richie’s forehead. Smile growing on his face, he gingerly removes the piles of papers and stacks them into a neat pile on the nearby table. 

“Eds…”

Eddie perks up at the voice and turns back to face Richie, only to find the man still fast asleep. There’s a frown on his face now, and his hands start to repeatedly clench and unclench atop his chest. A moment passes, calm before the storm. That’s when Eddie notices the huffs of breath through Richie’s nose, each one louder and more frantic than the last. 

“Eddie...”

Stomach dropping, Eddie reaches forward to caress Richie’s face in both hands. 

He knows what’s happening.

“Richie…” He says, voice quiet. His impressive composure would make it clear to anyone just how many times he’s been through this. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. “Richie, wake up.”

“Eddie-”

“You’re dreaming, Richie,” Eddie says without raising his voice. He circles both thumbs along Richie’s cheeks, as if trying to press as much love as he can into every touch. “Wake up.”

“Eddie don’t-”

“It’s not real, Richie. It’s just a dream.”

Richie’s head begins to dart back-and-forth, as if trying to shake himself from Eddie’s grasp. Knowing better than to restrain his boyfriend, Eddie loosens his grasp just enough to allow him to turn. “No...no, no, no, Eddie _wait_ -”

“Wake up, Richie. You’re having a nightmare.”

“ _Eddie, no-_ ”

“Come back to me, Rich. Wake up.”

That’s when Richie shouts, entire body convulsing. “ _NO-_ ”

A single tear slips from the corner of Eddie’s eye. “Rich-”

“ _EDDIE!_ ”

Flailing, wild and careless, Richie finally stirs. His eyes are wide and bloodshot, and he doesn’t even notice Eddie beside him as he slips into a panic. Shallow, shuddering breaths come out in sharp huffs from Richie’s parted mouth. His hands shoot up to his chest immediately after, rubbing himself frantically as if trying to get something off of him. 

_My blood_ , Eddie thinks to himself, knowing exactly what Richie saw in his dream. The sight of Eddie kneeling above him, triumphant and relieved that he saved Richie with a long-awaited kiss. Then, a claw that pierced his chest and sprayed Richie with the blood of his first love. 

“Richie.” Eddie’s voice is even quieter now. He raises both hands in a gesture of comfort, loosely grasping the man’s wrists in order to pull them away. 

Physical touch is what draws Richie back to the present. His gaze shoots down towards his lap before slowly working its way back up to Eddie’s face. 

Their eyes meet. 

And suddenly, Eddie isn’t looking at the face of a middle-aged man, but the terrified stare of a small boy he once knew. Out-of-breath and hands trembling, Richie silently looks Eddie up and down as he remembers where he is and that he’s safe. That Eddie is alive and safe and stronger than ever.

Then, under the dim glow of the flickering candles nearby, Richie’s face scrunches and he begins to uncontrollably sob.

Knowing that what Richie truly needs can’t be conveyed with words, Eddie is quick to nudge him into a sitting position and take off his glasses. He transfers to the couch in a matter of seconds, heart pumping a flood of adrenaline through his body despite his calm facade. Richie is on him before Eddie even has the chance to say his name.

But Eddie is there, ready to hold him.

Eddie catches a single, fleeting glance of Richie’s flushed and tear-stricken face before the man buries it against his stomach. Two large arms wrap around Eddie’s torso immediately after, pulling the pair impossibly closer. A heavy silence swallows the room. It’s repeatedly fractured with Richie’s broken, muffled cries.

All Eddie can do is sit beneath Richie’s shaking form, whispering sweet words of love and reassurance. 

Twenty minutes pass before Eddie even _considers_ trying to speak. Richie’s hands are still balled tightly around his shirt, eyes squeezed shut from where he remains pressed against Eddie’s abdomen. The man finally relaxes once Eddie traces an open palm through his hair and along his back in a loosely-formed path. “Hey there, bub.”

A heavy sigh, a tight squeeze. “...Hi.”

“You want some water?”

“ _No_ , no—” It’s near-frantic, the way Richie shakes his head. Eddie is quick to pick up on the gesture and moves to secure his hold on the man below. “I don’t wa— you can’t— I—”

“What is it, Rich?”

“— _Please don’t leave me._ ”

Something breaks in Eddie’s heart upon hearing such raw fragility in his boyfriend’s voice. The way it cracks, the way it jumps in octave so abruptly. Eddie’s eyes sting with tears as he speaks. “Hey, hey,” He coos, voice gentle and patient, “I’m right here. Can you look up? Come on, Rich, look at me, sweetheart.”

Slowly, as if the movement pains him, Richie peers up. 

His face is flushed red, eyes even more bloodshot than they were before. Though his weeping stopped, a steady flow of silent tears still streak down Richie’s face. Another wave of anguish floods Eddie’s chest when he sees the man’s bottom lip quiver. Nonetheless, Eddie puts on his most caring smile. “There he is.”

Eddie runs a hand along the side of Richie’s face, relieved when the man leans into the touch and lets his eyes drift closed. He exhales, loaded and exhausted. “Eddie…”

“I’m right here, Rich,” Eddie repeats, knowing exactly what Richie needs to hear from him by the expression on his face alone. “It wasn’t real.”

A small, broken whisper. “But it was.”

“It’s gone,” Eddie reiterates with a low but certain tone, “It can’t hurt us anymore.” 

“But it _did_.”

“And even after all of that, Richie, we’re _still here_.” Their gazes meet when Richie blinks, eyes swimming with an all-too-familiar pain. A constant thought that lives in both of their minds, tormenting them with images of what they’d nearly lost. “I’m still here, and I have you with me, and I swear I’ll never let anyone or anything change that so long as I can help it.”

Richie blinks, that same childlike expression still glistening in his eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise,” Eddie repeats back, despite knowing Richie can see the answer in his unbreaking stare. Feeling relieved as Richie’s expression gradually softens, Eddie leans forward and plants a series of feather-light kisses along his boyfriend’s forehead. “I’ll never leave your side for as long as I live.” 

Eddie doesn’t miss the way Richie’s eyes widen as they gleam with recognition. Those words are his own, the exact same ones he’d spoken onstage the other night. It only lasts a second before Richie composes himself, gaze locked on Eddie’s with great intent. Something about the gesture makes Eddie’s heart flutter.

Perhaps it’s the way Richie is staring at him now, eyes full of a loving admiration, a shimmer of something hopeful, and a dozen unasked questions.

Or maybe it’s because he listened, and he understood.

Richie whole-heartedly nods either way.

A series of sudden, high-pitch beeps echo throughout the house, followed by a few distant thuds and rumbles of the heater as it struggles to power on. One by one, the lights around the house flicker on in quick succession. Their Christmas tree is the only light that switches on in this room, flooding the floor with a brilliant gold that glistens when viewed from the right angle. 

Eddie feels Richie sigh against him, his body finally starting to relax. 

With it, an overwhelming rush of relief that surges through Eddie with a welcoming sense of fulfillment. The path to develop this bond between them wasn’t easy, a language filled with unspoken words and meaningful gestures. Even now, years after the events in Derry transpired, Richie and Eddie still suffer from the sting of what they’d been through. But it hurts just a little less when they’re not alone. 

“We should get you to bed, bub.”

Richie hesitates, staring at the twinkling Christmas tree before them. His eyes are so damn tired, but Eddie can still see a glisten of alleviation hidden beneath the layers of exhaustion. “Can we stay here a minute?”

“Sure,” Eddie exhales and intertwines Richie’s hand in his own, “We can stay.”

“Thank you.” Richie squeezes his boyfriend’s hand with a firm touch, and Eddie can sense the heavy weight of his words. They both adjust their positions to comfortably gaze at their tree, becoming lost in the sparkle of their ornaments, washed with gold.

A silent, thoughtful nod follows from Eddie as he plants another thoughtful kiss atop Richie’s head.

Exhaustion overtaking him, Eddie basks in the relief that comes with his boyfriend opening up and letting himself be vulnerable. He knows how hard it is for him to open up so willingly like this; There’s only five others who can, aside from themselves. When Eddie sees Richie in pain, he understands. 

It’s this knowledge that reassures Eddie that they'll always be alright in the end, so long as they’re at each other’s side.

For better or for worse, right?

  


* * *

  


**Bev ❤️🧡💛: hey are you busy right now?**

**Why?**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: wanna facetime with your best friend bev? 😘

Haha, sure.

**

Within seconds, Eddie’s phone screen is flashing with an image of Beverly making a heart with both hands. Eddie answers with a tired smile as he props the phone up against a large roll of paper towels. “Hi, Bev.”

“ _Hey! How’s it going?_ ”

“Fine, I guess.”

“ _Yikes. You sound tense._ ”

“It’s been over a month since I found that ring, Bev,” Eddie sighs, temporarily dropping his pile of clean rags to bury his face in his hands. He makes himself take a deep breath before gazing back towards the small screen. “He still hasn’t proposed.”

Beverly’s eyes go wide as she sweeps the background for signs of Richie’s presence. “ _Shh! Is he home?!_ ”

“No,” Eddie replies, visibly amused with Beverly’s reaction, “He’s at the store buying ingredients for all the food.”

A beat.

“Wait, did Richie ever send you that list of what we’re making?”

Beverly chuckles and nods to the camera. She taps the screen, flipping Eddie’s view to show off her large display of ingredients for what looks like a pie and some kind of casserole. The camera flips back. “ _I’m gonna make them the day after tomorrow, I think._ ”

“We could Facetime that day, if you want to,” Eddie offers with a kind smile, “That’s when we’ll be cooking some of our stuff, too.”

“ _Sure!_ ” 

Unbothered by the silence that falls between them, Eddie quickly resumes his task of wiping down every visible surface of the kitchen. Beverly watches him closely, a slight frown barely detectable on her face. “ _You’re stress-cleaning, sweetie._ ”

Eddie huffs and points a finger directly towards the camera. “I am _not_ stress-cleaning.”

“ _Yes you are, dingus! Look at you!_ ”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m definitely not.”

“ _Oh don’t even_ try _to play this game with me, Kaspbrak,_ ” Beverly replies. She mimics Eddie’s pointed finger and cocks an eyebrow, as if challenging him to deny her claim again. “ _What’s wrong?_ ”

Tossing a dirty rag over his shoulder, Eddie shoots a glare at the camera. “I already told you.”

“ _You weren’t this grouchy the last time I called you, Eddie._ ”

A loud groan echoes through the kitchen. “Okay, so _maybe_ I really thought the last time was gonna be it.”

“ _Richie’s show? The one you texted me about?_ ”

“Yeah, that one,” Eddie answers, taking a moment to rub his eyes with a thumb and finger. He squeezes the bridge of his nose as he speaks again. “After getting that close, like _actually believing_ we were about to be engaged, it just hit me how bad I want it, Bev…”

Beverly’s expression softens to one of sympathy, she smiles sadly. 

“Don’t patronize me.”

“ _I didn’t!_ ” Loud laughter plays from the speakers of Eddie’s phone, and he can’t help but smirk at the sound. There’s something about Beverly’s laugh that just makes him feel _better_ , no matter the context.

“I could _see_ it on your face!” Eddie accuses, now laughing. 

“ _Eddie, sweetie, if it’s_ really _bothering you that much, then just ask him yourself._ ” Tone growing more serious, Beverly eyes her screen with a torn expression. Her head and shoulders teeter in a display of her uncertainty. She’s clearly hesitant about her own suggestion; Eddie knows exactly why. “ _But I know you’re not gonna do that._ ”

No, he wouldn’t. How could he?

Richie’s clearly been building up to this for a while now, and the last thing Eddie wants to do is take away from whatever surprise he knows the man is planning.

Another short beat of silence.

“You’re right, I won’t,” Eddie buries his face in both hands and groans loudly, partially muffling his voice. “He’s so fucking lucky I love with as much as I do.”

“ _He’ll ask, Eddie. He will._ ”

Eddie lets his face fall forward until it lands atop the arm he has resting on the counter. “-Just wanna marry’m, Bev…”

“ _You will, sweetie._ ” An encouraging smile flashes on Beverly’s pixelated face just before the distant call of Ben’s voice can be heard through the speaker. Beverly whips her head to the side, listens, and turns back with an apologetic look. “ _I have to go, but text me later, okay?_ ”

Nodding, Eddie offers a short wave goodbye. “Will do.”

The call disconnects.

Pocketing his phone, Eddie returns to his cleaning once more. He’s not sure how long he works before Richie arrives home. It could’ve been an hour, or it could’ve been four. Eddie always seems to lose his grasp on reality when he has Richie on the mind. Particularly the thought of Richie finally proposing to him.

“There’s my Spaghetti!” Richie beams when he walks in, his reusable canvas bags stuffed to the brim with boxes, bags, and bottles. He leans to give his boyfriend a kiss on the forehead, but earns a playful shove to the shoulder when he starts spilling ingredients onto the floor beside Eddie. 

“How’d you do?” Eddie asks, peeking into the large bags as Richie quickly works to empty them. “Find everything we need?” 

“Uh, I think so, I guess— oh, I should wash these now—” Richie cuts off mid-sentence and sets aside a large plastic carton of strawberries. “—I guess we’ll find out if I forgot anything when we go to make the stuff.” 

“I’m sure there’s _something_ you forgot,” Eddie teases. He resumes his cleaning and vigorously wipes down the counter as Richie slowly clears it of food. 

“Offensive.”

“ _Accurate_.” 

“Also true,” Richie admits with equal volume, an amused chuckle slipping past his wounded facade. He sticks the last of the groceries away and tosses the bags in the cupboard closest to the kitchen’s entrance. “So...whatcha doing there, Eds?”

“What?” 

“You look like you’re trying to rub a hole in our poor granite,” Richie comments with a laugh before sitting against the upper counter’s edge, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you stress-cleaning again?”

“ _I’m not fucking stress-cl-_ ” Eddie abruptly cuts off once he remembers that Richie wasn’t present for the phonecall. There’s no way for him to know that Beverly had just accused him of the same thing earlier that morning. Calming down, Eddie wrings his washcloth over the sink and tries again. “I’m not stress-cleaning.”

An unconvinced snort. “Right, _definitely_ not stress-cleaning, got it…”

Eddie rolls his eyes and continues working.

“Hey,” Richie says, much softer now, “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Still unconvinced, Richie extends a hand and runs it through Eddie’s hair. He repeats the movement, a comb-like forward-to-back motion, and Eddie instantly leans into the touch. “What’s got you so stressed, Eddie, baby?”

“Uh, just some stuff for work,” Eddie lies.

“Any way I can help?”

 _Yes, actually,_ Eddie thinks to himself, _There’s a very specific way you could instantly relieve this stress, Richard._

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Eddie answers quickly. He washes his rag under the faucet and snatches a clean towel to dry off the counter. “I just have a lot to do today.”

“Oh,” Richie sighs, eyes sad. Almost instantly, the look is replaced with a brightening expression. “ _Oh!_ How about we do something later?”

Eddie pointedly frowns. “Like what?”

“Let’s go on a date,” Richie beams, still running the same hand through Eddie’s hair, “It’ll give you something to look forward to once you’re done with your stuff.”

A skip of Eddie’s heart, a rush of love.

Even with the stress of that ring being a few rooms away, just sitting there, _waiting_ , Eddie finds his tension fading at the idea. Richie always knows exactly what he needs. Even more so than Eddie does, most of the time. 

Noting Eddie’s hesitation, Richie shrugs off the suggestion. “Unless you don’t want to, of course, we could just stay in-”

“No, let’s do it,” Eddie smiles up towards his boyfriend, “It’s a nice idea.”

“Oh, okay! Cool.” Planting a chaste kiss on Eddie’s lips, Richie shoots up and bounds across the kitchen with a newfound excitement. 

Giggling at the sight, Eddie leans back in his wheelchair. “Rich.”

The man halts in his tracks, sliding a bit over the tile in his wool socks. He turns back with a prominent frown on his face. “What?”

“You forgot something, bub.”

“What?” Richies repeats, perplexed. “I love you?”

Another one of Eddie’s laughs fills the room, even louder this time. “I love you too, but no, that wasn’t it.”

“What did I…”

Richie trails off, eyes glazing over. Eddie watches in silence as Richie silently re-walks his path since getting home. Ten seconds of silence passes, and Eddie nearly gives in and tells him the answer. It’s not until Richie reaches the counter does he spot the untouched container of unwashed strawberries. 

“Oh, fuck me,” Richie curses, turning back to shoot Eddie a sheepish smirk, “Thanks.”

A wide grin spreads on Eddie’s face. “Of course, sweetheart.”

  


* * *

  


It’s dark by the time the couple heads out to the car. 

Days like this are the reason Eddie prefers working from home, where he doesn’t have to stick to a strict nine to five schedule. Though the complications from his injury are much easier to manage than they were three years ago, there are still times when Eddie grows too fatigued to work. Or other times when Eddie is able to finish early and go on a date with his boyfriend.

Plus, home is where Richie is; Anything that lets Eddie spend more time with him is always preferable.

Once Richie ensures Eddie is settled in the passenger seat, he doubles back to stick the man’s wheelchair in the trunk. Richie didn’t disclose where they were heading, but Eddie knows the place must involve a lot of walking. He wouldn’t have brought the chair along otherwise.

Holiday music plays on the radio, lulling Eddie into a comforting, dream-like state. A trance in which his eyes drift from house to house, enraptured by the multi-colored lights that encircle trees and line sidewalks. It’s a familiar sight, one that brings about memories of Eddie’s first Christmas after Derry.

An endless night of weaving down streets and wondering why the faint glow of the lights on Richie’s face was making Eddie’s heart race so quickly.

If only the Eddie back then knew just how much his life was about to change.

“We’re here,” Richie says softly, leaning forward to peer at the ticket booth in the distance. He throws a smile in Eddie’s direction. It’s warm, overly-fond. An expression that Eddie’s sure he’s seen a thousand times, and yet it still never feels like enough.

All it takes is one glance forward for Eddie to know they’re at the zoo to see the Christmas lights; It really can’t get any more romantic than this.

A nervous flutter of Eddie’s heart.

“I should’ve known,” Eddie cracks a smile, placing a hand on Richie’s shoulder and giving a squeeze. Nervous expression quickly morphing into an excited one, Richie leans down to plant a kiss atop Eddie’s gloved hand. “You’ve been dying to come here all month.”

“Because it’s the first time we’ve been able to go together, man!” With a defensive half-shout, Richie pays for their tickets and drives to the very front of the parking lot. In a place as large as this, Eddie is suddenly very thankful for his disabled parking permit. “You were still healing that first year,” Richie adds, pulling into an open space, “It was too damn cold the second year, and I got sick last year.”

“Huh,” Eddie breathes in disbelief, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Shooting forwards, Richie leans in to press a firm kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I think you’re gonna love it, Eds.”

Beaming at the sight of Richie so excited, Eddie offers another kiss in return. “I think so, too.”

Will this be the night Richie _finally_ fucking proposes? 

At this rate, no. Probably not. But has that stopped Eddie from thinking about it every time he locks eyes with Richie as they slowly navigate the entire grounds? 

Nope, not one fucking bit!

The decorations themselves are stunningly beautiful. Strands of shimmering lights weave over the shrubbery like water in a river, seemingly endless. There’s a giant animal figure at every corner, along with curved, cylindrical tunnels lining nearly every diverging path. Faint but festive music can be heard amongst the murmurs of the crowd. 

It’s even better than Eddie thought it’d be, probably because of how it resembles some of his earliest nights out of the hospital. Back then, it was mutual stolen glances under the cover of darkness in Richie’s car, lights sweeping by in a blur. And now? It’s open displays of affection with the man who is undoubtedly the love of his life.

It’s funny how, even now, Eddie still nervously blushes when Richie winks at him.

Some things really don’t change, he supposes.

“Ben told me he finally updated his last name on his long-ass list of memberships the other day,” Richie says out of the blue. 

The abruptness of the topic-change strikes Eddie like a train, sending him reeling as he tries to collect himself enough to reply. Suddenly, the dazzling purple, green, and blue lights surrounding them no longer matter. “What?”

Richie hesitates behind him; The wheelchair slows down a bit. “I was on the phone with Ben the other day and he mentioned how his name under a few accounts was still listed as Hanscom. He went and changed them all to Marsh this week.”

“He _still_ hadn’t changed some of them?” Eddie questions, craning his neck to peer up at Richie over his shoulder. “Haven’t they been married for like, a year now?”

“A year and a _half_ , yeah,” Richie laughs. He spots an open wooden bench across the path and makes his way over to it. Eddie settles in beside it as Richie takes a seat on its edge, scooting as closely to his boyfriend as he can. “But now Ben’s done, and he’s officially, 100% a Marsh.”

“That’s so much work.”

“What is?” 

“Changing your name.” Keeping his eyes forward, Eddie watches the flashing pink and orange lights that line the metal gates up ahead. “It’d take so long to try and log into all of your accounts, get locked out because you forgot your password, reset your password after getting unlocked, and _then_ go change your name in the settings.”

Richie nods thoughtfully, remaining silent for a moment. “So is that something you wouldn’t wanna do?”

Eddie turns to him and frowns, perplexed. “Wait, what?”

“Change your name,” Richie explains with a neutral expression that Eddie can’t make out in the low light. “You know, if you— if _we_ —”

“ _Oh_.”

Instead of finishing his question, Richie remains silent.

In contrast, Eddie’s mind is anything but quiet. Richie’s words ricochet back-and-forth, setting off siren after siren until his entire world feels like it's blaring. They’ve been together for over three years now, and this is the _first_ time they’ve ever spoken of this. But that’s not without reason. 

Richie doesn’t dwell on the future much. 

_It’s nice to just take things a day at a time,_ he always says. But Eddie knows how anxious he can get about their relationship. It’s as if Richie has this notion that, if he says a single thing that displeases Eddie, things will end between them. Which is probably the most incorrect statement Eddie’s ever heard in his life.

But maybe this is Richie moving past that…

...or trying to, at least.

“Have you thought about it?” Eddie asks with a genuine curiosity. 

A subtle half-shrug. “A little.”

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles and tries to mask the hopeful gleam in his eyes. Richie’s gaze has drifted somewhere beyond Eddie, but Eddie shifts in his wheelchair until they’re face-to-face again. “What do you think?”

“Uh,” Richie nervously stutters in a way that’s kind of cute, “Well our options would be to take one of our names, or hyphenate, or just keep our own.”

“Hm. Is there one you prefer more?”

“I kinda wanted to see what you thought first.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods, voice gentle. He’s still processing that this conversation is even happening, but he does well to maintain his composure. Richie is very visibly nervous; The last thing Eddie wants to do is spook him before they finish this conversation. “I don’t want— or, I _wouldn’t_ want us to both just keep our own names.”

“Me neither.”

A soft smile grows on Eddie’s face at the timidness of Richie’s voice. He reaches over and takes one of the man’s gloved hands in both of his own. “So would you rather have one of us take the other’s name? Or would you want to hyphenate?” 

“Come on, man, I asked you first.” Richie huffs a nervous laugh, gives Eddie’s hands a shaky squeeze. “You tell me.”

Eddie smiles back.

“Fine,” He says, a bit louder now, “To tell you the truth, I’d be happy with whatever you preferred—”

“I would be too, Eds-”

“—but I think I actually _do_ have a preference.”

“Oh,” Richie breathes in shock. His eyes widen a bit and he sits up taller, trying to read the expression on Eddie’s face. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting Eddie to already have a clear choice in mind. “You do?”

A weighted silence falls between them.

Meeting Richie’s gaze, Eddie’s eyes gleam with a love so abundant it nearly drives him to tears. It’s a look of certainty, one of careful thinking. Richie may have only thought about it a little, but Eddie? He’s thought about it a fucking _lot_. Eddie knows exactly what he wants, something he’s dreamed of since their first kiss. 

Or perhaps, even a long, long time before that.

Over thirty years ago.

Taking a deep breath, Eddie beams. “I’d want to take your name.”

Richie blinks, clearly taken aback by his boyfriend’s reply. His mouth falls open, then shuts again. “Tozier?”

“Uh, yes?” Eddie laughs, keeping hold of Richie’s hand. “Unless you have some other name I don’t know about?”

“No, I—” Richie stammers half a reply before shaking his head and trying again. “—I thought you didn’t want to change your name.”

Shit.

“ _No_ , no, Rich. That’s not what I meant.”

“But you said-”

“I said it’s a lot of work,” Eddie affirms. A reassuring smile flashes on his face as he gives Richie’s hand a few grounding pats. “But I _never_ said I wouldn’t do it for you, sweetheart.”

“Oh.”

“It’d be _worth it_ for you.”

“And you— you’d really want that? If we-” Shifting on the bench, Richie shoots Eddie a questioning gaze. There’s something in his eyes that resembles doubt, but still fully trusting nonetheless. “Like you’re not just saying that because of job, right? Don’t think I can’t change _my_ name, if that’s what you-”

“No, it’s not because of that.”

Richie doesn’t respond.

“I wanted to live at your house as a kid, sometimes.”

“Eddie, wh-”

“Shut up, let me finish,” Eddie snaps lightly. He lets his eyes drift back to the display of lights ahead as he speaks, becoming lost in the sea of colors as they dance. “There were days I wish I could’ve moved in with you. I was always welcome at your place anyways, and I just really liked being there.”

“Eds…”

“I loved my mom, Rich, but she really fucked with my head. And some days, I just wanted to get away for awhile. My first instinct was always your house, with your family.” Their positions shift, and suddenly, it’s Richie who has both hands wrapped securely around one of Eddie’s. Eddie exhales at the touch, controlled but relaxed. “And then we all moved away, and we forgot each other, and then _this_ —”

Eddie gestures to his torso, right above the scar that lines his entire abdomen beneath his many layers of clothing.

“—happened. It feels like all those years apart were kind of like a weird dream, you know?”

Richie nods, and Eddie knows he understands.

“But now we’re back together again,” Eddie continues, voice growing unexpectedly gentle, “And it’s like I’ve been given this second chance to make the family I always dreamed of being a part of.”

A shaky breath, a surprised chuckle. “Eddie Tozier?”

“Yeah,” Eddie joins in his boyfriend's soft laughter. Hearing the name come out of Richie’s mouth only solidifies his wish to be bound to this man forever. “What do you think?”

Eddie looks back towards him.

“I—” Richie keeps shaking his head, shocked laughter slipping from his parted mouth. “—that’d make me really happy, Eds.”

“It’d make me happy, too.” 

One step at a time.

  


* * *

  


It was the perfect moment to pop the question, but Eddie knew Richie wasn’t going to do it. 

He could see it in Richie’s expression, hear it in his voice as he spoke. So when Richie stood and began to push Eddie down the trail as if their talk never happened, Eddie wasn’t phased. That discussion alone was a big step in the right direction, and Eddie was more than happy to settle with what he’d been dealt for now.

Or at least he was, that is, until the couple finished their walk and returned home later that night. 

Eddie lays on his side of the bed, clean and bundled up under multiple blankets. Once Richie’s out of the shower, he’ll be more than ready to pass out. But he needs to get something off his chest before he can even _think_ about sleeping. 

****

**Beverly.**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: back from your date???

Yes. Richie’s in the shower and we’re going to bed once he’s done.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: so………

He didn’t ask.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: damn when you said he took you to see the lights i thought for sure that was gonna be it 😭

Well so did I!

Bev ❤️🧡💛: are you more tense than usual or no? i can never tell when you type like that

Type like what?

Bev ❤️🧡💛: with punctuation

Oh. Yes I’m very fucking tense.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: should i even ask why or are you gonna tell me either way

Oh, you’re trapped. I’m telling you.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: wait hold on**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: 🍿🛋🥤**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: okay i’m ready**

**You’re infuriating.**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: no i’m bev 🥰

Enough. 🙄

So anyways. We get there. And we’re having a good time! The displays are actually really pretty. And then he sits us down on a bench…

Bev ❤️🧡💛: oh?

And he fucking asks me my opinion about changing our last names if we got married!

Bev ❤️🧡💛: wait like you guys specifically or just in general

Us specifically.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: oh shit**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: what'd you say?**

**I won’t go into specifics because it’s not that important at the moment, but eventually I told him that I’d want to take his last name (Which we can talk about later because I know you’re gonna ask!).**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: eddie tozier...**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: that’s so cute 🥺💕**

**Focus, Bev!**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: right sorry so what’d richie think of that?

He sounded really happy about it! And seeing him that happy made me happy, too!

Bev ❤️🧡💛: i don’t see the issue here other than the obvious fact that he didn’t propose to you in that moment

It happened after.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: oh

We made our way around the rest of the zoo until we ended by this really huge pine tree. It was completely covered in lights of every color and there weren’t very many people around.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: now that’s a prime proposal setup

THANK YOU! I thought so, too! And I really thought he was gonna do it, Bev. Even more than Richie’s show the other week. I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing for a minute tonight, and I swear Richie could hear my heart beating from beside me.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: so what happened?

We’re standing there, and it’s super fucking romantic, right? We stopped in front of the big tree and he stood beside me. We held hands for a bit. And then he starts talking about how much fun he had tonight and how much he loves me. Which I then reciprocated! I had much more fun than I thought I would and of course I love him!

And then Richie says something that hinted back to our talk at the bench and how he felt relieved to finally know what I thought about it. So then I think hey! Maybe he’s relieved because I very heavily implied that I WANT to marry him and take his last name! So maybe he’ll finally propose! But guess what fucking happened, Bev.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: oh no what? 😓

He looks at me with that one fucking smile, you know the one, and suddenly! He’s dropping down on one knee! He’s right in front of me, on a single fucking knee, just minutes after asking me about my thoughts on changing our last names if we ever got MARRIED! And he DOESN’T propose. BUT GUESS WHAT HE DOES!

Bev ❤️🧡💛: i’m afraid to ask...what? 😭

HE WAS QUIET UNTIL HE STOOD BACK UP WHEN HE WAS DONE AND SAID “YOUR SHOE WAS UNTIED”

THIS IS A JOKE, RIGHT? HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING, RIGHT?

Bev ❤️🧡💛: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

IT’S NOT FUCKING FUNNY.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: actually it’s VERY funny wow i wish i could’ve seen your face**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: i even would’ve PAID MONEY to see your face**

**BEVERLY. I’M HAVING A CRISIS.**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: he tied your fucking SHOE 🤣🤣

BEV. PLEASE.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: can i PLEASE tell ben

NO. 

DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE. 

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

Bev ❤️🧡💛: BUT IT’S SO FUNNY

SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: sweetie i’m so sorry but i’m never letting this go for as long as i live

😑

Bev ❤️🧡💛: and i’d hate to break it to you, but it’s very, very unlikely richie knew what he was doing**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: i genuinely believe he was just innocently tying your shoe**

**I hate him.**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: no you don’t

Yes I do.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: no you don’t ❤️

...Fine. I don’t. But I WANT to.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: no you don’t what to do that either

Stop psychoanalyzing me.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: i’m not even doing that though i just know you as a person and I’m very aware of the fact that not a single bone in your body could ever fathom the idea of hating richie

...Okay you win.

Bev what the fuck am I gonna do?!

Bev ❤️🧡💛: keep waiting? if he’s asking you those kinds of questions it’ll probably happen soon

But how do I keep doing that without going INSANE?! If I have to go through tonight all over again I don’t think I’ll survive it, Bev…

Bev ❤️🧡💛: if you really don’t think you can make it that long then just ask him yourself**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: but we’ve already talked about why you’re not going to do that**

**I know. I just want it to be as special as he’s probably planning it to be.**

**Bev ❤️🧡💛: keep doing what you’re doing, then!

I can try. No guarantees, though.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: that’s my eddie 🥰 go get some sleep, i think you might need it

Ugh. Okay. Goodnight, Bev.

Bev ❤️🧡💛: goodnight, eddie 💕**

Another ten minutes passes before Richie finally enters the room, donning a loose pair of plaid pajama pants and a thick sweatshirt. He collapses into bed, the mattress bouncing beneath him, before scooting up to fall against the pillows. 

Eddie chuckles at the display, his heightened emotions still raging in his chest as he lays down beside his boyfriend. “Sleepy?”

Richie hums and weakly nods, eyes already shut. “Mhm…”

“Thank you for the date, Rich,” Eddie says sweetly, planting a kiss to the man’s forehead. “I had a lot of fun.”

 _Even if you didn’t fucking propose yet,_ Eddie comments internally. 

A tired smile flashes on Richie’s face, though his eyes still remain shut. “I did, too.”

“And I—” Eddie starts, not sure how much to say with Richie already slipping into a light sleep beside him. “—What we talked about at the bench, it made me very happy. I’m glad you asked.”

Richie’s eyes peek open at that. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles warmly, nodding his head. He leans forward to place a single splayed hand on Richie’s cheek. They kiss, deep yet delicate, before pulling away. “I love you.”

A content sigh falls from Richie’s mouth; He reaches to intertwine his fingers with Eddie’s once he switches off the bedside light. Together, they dwell in the darkness, sharing their warmth beneath the covers. “I love you, too.” 

Now, all Eddie has to do is survive long enough for Richie to take his next leap and finally pop the question. 

How hard could it be?

  


* * *

  


“ _Fuck._ ”

“Rich?” Backing away from his task of setting the dining room table, Eddie navigates himself towards the archway leading to the kitchen. He spots Richie frozen where he stands, ingredients in hand as he intently stares towards his large mixing bowl. “You alright, bub?” 

Richie turns to him in a panic. “Eddie I can’t remember if I put this in or not.”

Nodding with understanding, Eddie wheels forward and takes the ground ginger from Richie’s hand. It’s likely Richie already used it since the container is open. To test his theory, Eddie takes a whiff of the spice before licking the mixing spoon. Then, a short pause, followed by a nod of Eddie’s head. “Yeah, you put it in.”

“Shit, are you _sure?_ ” Richie probes with widening eyes, clearly unconvinced. He stares down into the bowl as if it’ll suddenly tell him the answer. “Are you _absolutely positive?_ ”

“ _Yes_ , I’m sure.” An amused laugh escapes Eddie’s mouth as he hands the spice back to Richie. “Don’t add any more or it won’t taste right. And grab a new spoon.”

“What if I add just a little bit—”

“Sweetheart, I _promise_ you already put it in.”

Richie mutters under his breath, his eyes still locked on the bowl in front of him. “... _But what if I didn’t?_ ”

A drawn-out sigh. “Want me to take over, Rich?”

“No, no, I’ve got it.” 

Eddie, however, remains skeptical as he watches his boyfriend hastily shift his weight between both feet. There’s something about Richie’s voice that makes him feel distant, like his mind is somewhere else. Unwilling to back down, Eddie silently wheels as close as he can just before his feet nudge the man’s ankle. 

Before Richie can react, Eddie latches both hands onto Richie’s upper arm and pulls himself into a standing position. 

" _Whoa_ , hey—” Richie jumps, dropping his ingredients onto the counter as he fumbles to catch Eddie. He instinctively wraps both arms around Eddie’s back, pulling him close to give him more to lean on. They end up chest-to-chest, with Eddie’s arms hooked securely over Richie’s shoulders and behind his neck. “Well hi there, honey.”

A playful chuckle. “Hi.” 

“Something I can help you with?”

“Just checking in,” Eddie answers honestly, not feeling the need to hide his intentions. “You seemed a little foggy.”

“That is indeed something my brain routinely does.”

Hesitating, Eddie traces a palm down the side of his boyfriend’s face; Richie visibly relaxes under the touch. “You feeling okay, Rich?” 

A silent nod, eyes closed.

“What about your meds? Did you take them all this morning?” Eddie half-hums as he cranes his neck to kiss the tip of Richie’s nose. 

Eddie waits when his boyfriend doesn’t reply right away, knowing that he sometimes needs a few extra moments to process what he’s being asked. It took a bit of trial-and-error to learn that one, Eddie will admit. The process involved many instances of Eddie asking a question, waiting, and Richie blurting out an answer when Eddie’s halfway through asking it a second time. 

But now, Eddie always waits. If Richie doesn’t remember the question, Eddie knows he’ll ask for it to be repeated. 

He never minds the silence.

“Yeah, I did.” 

“So what’s wrong?” Eddie’s sweet expression morphs into a slight frown of concern. “Nervous about the party?”

“Maybe a little,” Richie timidly admits as he presses their foreheads together, “I just want it to go well.” 

“Of course it will, sweetheart.”

“I know,” Richie sighs, “Just my brain being stupid.”

“The last time we were all together was this past summer, Rich. Everyone’s gonna have a great time just seeing each other. Don’t get stuck on the tiny details people won’t remember anyways, okay?”

“Sorry. I’ll try.” 

“Hey.” While running a hand through Richie’s hair, Eddie plants a chaste kiss on his lips. “You know you don’t have to apologize for that.”

Richie pulls him back in for another. “Sor— I know.”

“Good,” Eddie hums, leaning back enough for Richie to help guide him back into his wheelchair. He rolls up his sleeves and exhales loudly once he’s settled. “Lemme take over, Rich. I remember what to do from here. Go relax for a bit.”

“I—” Richie hesitates, stuttering a bit. “—Okay. Thanks.”

Eddie grabs the hand dangling at Richie’s side and plants a firm kiss to his knuckles. “I’ll call you if I need help.”

That, more than anything, seems to relax Richie the most.

“I’m here if you need me, Eds.”

“I know you are.”

  


* * *

  


The Marsh’s are the first to arrive. 

Eddie exchanges his wheelchair for crutches when he hears a light series of knocks from the foyer. Doing so makes it easier to maneuver down the hallway with multiple people. Plus, it grants Eddie quicker access to hugging his friends which, in Eddie’s book, is a very high-ranking priority. 

“ _Eddie!_ ” Beverly screams once the man swings the front door open. She wastes no time dropping her bags onto the porch and launching herself forwards. Draping her arms over Eddie’s shoulders, Beverly lets out a youthful laugh that rings down the hall. She nuzzles in close. “I missed you so much.”

A relaxed laugh. “We talk nearly every day, Bev.”

“It’s not the same and you _know_ it, dingus.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie beams as he pulls away, happily pecking Beverly’s cheek with a kiss. “It’s good to see you, Bev.”

“You too.” Beverly returns the same smile, but hesitates before stepping out of the way for Ben. Her gaze sinks downwards to land on one of Eddie’s hands, only to slowly drift sideways as she studies the other. Eddie instantly knows exactly what she’s looking for. 

Still no ring.

Beverly shoots Eddie a nosy look, and he returns one of equal subtlety. 

“Hey, Eddie!” Ben steps up, now carrying his bags as well as the ones his wife dropped. He sets them on the floor and Beverly, a sheepish smile on her face, moves to take them to the other room. 

“Hi, Ben.” They share a firm hug, and Eddie can’t help but smirk as they pull away. “So I heard you’re finally Ben Marsh on every last one of your accounts. Took you long enough.” 

“Heh, yeah,” Ben chuckles, toeing off his snow-covered shoes and placing them on the mat beside the door. “Richie tell you?”

Eddie nods. “How’s it feel?”

Another laugh, this one a mix between shock and a heavy exhale. “It feels kind of crazy sometimes, but good. Like really, _really_ good.” 

“Glad to hear it,” Eddie replies with a thrilled grin, “You deserve it.” 

“Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie searches Ben’s face for any sign that Beverly told him about the ring, but sees none. Ben, however, is the best secret-keeper amongst the group; He can hide any knowledge with ease when asked not to share it. Eddie remains unconvinced he’s not in on it.

Ten minutes pass before Bill and Mike arrive together.

It’s become a rather common occurrence, seeing those two arriving at their meetups at the same time, no matter where the location. And, as far as Eddie can tell, Bill and Mike visit each other _a lot_. Now, Eddie isn’t nosy, or he doesn’t try to be, at least. But he also knows a midlife sexuality crisis when he sees one. 

“Hey, guys!” Eddie grins as he opens the door wide enough for the pair to step inside. “How was the drive in?”

Bill and Mike share the kind of look that Eddie knows all too well. He masks his smirk with a yawn, waiting for an answer. 

“Uh, g-good,” Bill smiles, wrapping an arm around Eddie in a quick embrace. Eddie hugs back to the best of his ability and pats the man firmly on the back. “How are you?”

“I’m alright.” Eddie steps back and moves to hug Mike, his next words partially muffled by the man’s thick sweater. “I’m really excited to see you guys.”

When Mike retracts, he sets his bags on the floor to give Eddie’s shoulders a squeeze with both hands. He studies Eddie’s face closely, nods to himself. There’s something in his expression that resembles a steadfast pride. “You look really great, Eddie.” 

“Oh.” Taken aback by the weight behind his friend’s words, Eddie beams. “Thank you, Mike.”

Once everyone is settled in, Eddie takes a moment to organize everyone’s bags of gifts in his office; He barely makes it back to the kitchen before another curt knock sounds from down the hall. A huff slips from his mouth as he turns back around. 

“Eds?” Richie half-jogs over from where Ben is helping to prepare the remaining dishes. He leans down a bit so his mouth is right beside Eddie’s ear. A smile flashes on his face, which reassures Eddie that whatever had been bugging him earlier seems to have vanished. “Doing alright, baby?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, “I’m fine.”

Richie leans back, unconvinced. “Go sit with the others. I’ve got the door.”

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but closes it almost as quickly. He knows he won’t win this fight. Not with that look in Richie’s eyes that’s so obviously him attempting to mask his growing concern. “Fine.”

“Thank you, honey.” An affectionate expression appears on Richie’s face and Eddie can’t help but smile back at the sight. He turns to find his wheelchair, but jumps when he feels Richie’s hand clamped around his upper arm. “Hey, Eddie wait-”

“What?”

“I gotta ask you something.” Richie quickly sweeps the area to make sure they’re alone. “Are Bill and Mikey, you know-”

Richie lifts both hands and makes a crude gesture.

Eddie slaps a hand across his boyfriend’s and knocks them away, leaving the man in a fit of giggles. Leaning in close, eyes wide, Eddie whispers in his ear. “Shit, you see it, too?!”

“I’m a gay man who was closeted until the ripe age of forty, Eds. Of course I fucking see it.”

“So you really think they’re…”

“There’s _no way_ they’re not-”

Another series of knocks, louder this time.

“Shit, the door,” Richie utters, backing away and leaving Eddie alone in the kitchen’s entrance. Eddie watches the man glance back over his shoulder and mouth the words _Go watch them_ just before he rounds the corner.

Eddie smiles to himself as he transfers back to his wheelchair, a relieved sigh slipping past his lips as he stretches his arms and neck. He thinks back to his encounter with Bill and Mike at the door, unable to stifle his elated chuckle at the notion of the together. 

If it’s true, Eddie just might bring himself to believe in fate.

That despite everything they went through, they still made it back to each other again. That maybe, they were always meant to find each other.

Another rush of love makes Eddie’s heart swell when he turns the corner, the sound of laughter growing louder as he nears. The others are spread between the couch and the cluster of chairs beside it; They excitedly wave Eddie over once they spot him. Grinning, Mike picks up on his story about the Christmas lights he and Bill saw on their way over. 

Eddie’s settled on the couch, head resting on the side of Beverly’s shoulder, when a loud voice booms from down the hall.

“ _Kids!_ ” Richie yells in a half-shout, half-cry. “ _The kids are here!_ ”

The fuck? 

Scanning the other’s expression, it’s quick to see that Eddie isn’t the only one confused.

Mike blinks in disbelief. “Uh, what did he just say?”

“Kids?” Bill asks, a startled laugh falling from his mouth as he runs a hand through his hair. “Did I hear that right?”

“Apparently so?” Leaning forward in his seat, Ben tries to peer down the hall to catch a glimpse of Richie. Then, a gasp. Ben sinks back moments later, and his smile is nothing less than delighted.

“What is it, darling?” Beverly asks excitedly, pawing at her husband's arm for an answer.

Ben winks, but says nothing.

Frowning, Eddie sits up when Richie finally enters the room. In his hands are two very small objects; Eddie has to squint his eyes before he realizes they’re both _moving_. It’s not until he glances back towards his boyfriend’s face does Eddie see that Richie had just been crying. 

“Kids,” Richie repeats, voice still cracking a bit between sniffs. He extends both arms towards his friends to provide a better view just as Stan and Patty round the corner, both of whom appear pleasantly amused. “They have _kids!_ ”

There, in Richie’s grasp, are two tiny kittens.

They can’t be more than a month or two old, judging by the way they’re both comfortably nestled into Richie’s large palms. A high-pitched meow rings across the room; Eddie is nearly knocked from his seat at the sight of Richie kissing one of their heads in response. When the kittens start to wriggle against Richie’s loose hold, Patty swoops in and takes them into her arms.

“Surprise!” She laughs, making her way over towards the rest of the group. “We adopted them a few weeks ago, and we thought it’d be fun to surprise you all by bringing them!”

“...So fucking cute…” Eddie hears Richie mumble towards Stan, only picking up on a handful of his words. “...wasn’t ready...made me cry, dude…”

Stan has an arm wrapped tight around Richie’s shoulders; They both follow closely behind Patty and take a seat on the nearby cushioned chair. Smiling, Stan whispers something into Richie’s ear that Eddie doesn’t quite pick up. Whatever it was, Richie’s expression turns serious in an instant. It takes a few seconds, but he manages to offer a feeble smile in return.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce us?” Beverly laughs, her voice pulling Eddie back to reality. She gestures to the newest members of the Uris family with energetic hands. 

“Oh! Yes of course,” Patty bounces on her feet and holds up the first kitten, who’s mostly white with a few black and orange splotches on its back. “This is Chickadee, but we’ve been calling her Dee or Deedee for short.”

Eddie hears Richie’s muffled voice again. “... _so fucking cute_...”

“And _this_ —” Patty beams, holding out the other kitten directly in front of her. This one is a bit smaller and is almost entirely gray, its eyes a bright and stunning blue. “—is her sister. We named her Piper.”

“Tell them why, Babylove.”

Patty snickers to herself. “Because whenever we try to give her a bath she runs away like one of those sandpipers at the beach when the waves roll in.”

“Ha, very clever! I love those names,” Mike chuckles. He stands to embrace Patty the best he can while she’s holding the two cats, drawing a loud bout of laughter from the group when one of the cats gets its claw caught on the man’s sleeve. 

A timer goes off in the kitchen.

“I’ve got it!” Ben says as he jumps up from his seat and crosses the room. “I think that’s for the casserole I’m heating up...”

Richie stands to go help, but Bill waves him back down. “You and Eddie have done plenty, Rich, l-let us help.”

Eddie watches Bill go, not noticing when Patty steps in front of him. 

He’s eye-to-eye with Deedee once he turns back, a startled expression flashing on his face. Even though he knows now that he isn’t, Eddie grew up being told he was severely allergic to cats. And while he’s been around a few since finally receiving his negative allergy test results, this is the closest he’s ever been to kittens of this age. 

They’re so...small.

It’s adorable.

Patty’s expression softens at Eddie’s mixed reaction. “Wanna hold her, Eddie?”

Before Eddie even registers the question, he finds himself with both arms extended. His hands open slowly as he silently nods, eyes wide and glistening with a child-like fascination. There’s a visible eagerness to Eddie’s movements, and he can barely contain it when Patty gingerly reaches down to place the kitten in his lap. 

Eddie’s hands hover just above the kitten at first, as if he’s contemplating the proper way to hold her. His apprehensions seem to melt away, however, once Deedee peers up to meet his gaze. She mews, blinks. Eddie’s smile that follows is small and barely visible. “Hi.”

Holding out a single finger, Eddie watches with rapt attention as Deedee slowly leans forward and sniffs him. He feels the kitten’s nose against his skin; Her whiskers almost tickle a bit. “That’s me. I’m Eddie.”

The cat stares up at him again, pupils dilating by the slightest fraction. Eddie takes the stare as an invitation to pet her. Very gradually, as if not to spook her, Eddie runs a single digit over the kitten’s back. 

“You’re so soft,” Eddie coos, not even noticing the way his voice is jumping octaves by the second. He’s far more focused on the way the cat’s eyes are drifting shut. Gaining more confidence, Eddie repeats the same motions along Deedee’s back. “Does that feel good?”

A sudden, low vibrating startles Eddie, though he calms down quickly once he realizes it’s Deedee's satisfied purrs. As if on cue, the cat plops down on the man’s thighs and eggs him to continue. Another elated rush surges through Eddie at the notion, a beaming smile flashing on his face. 

His very first instinct is to call for Richie, to show him how much the kitten has already taken to him.

But as always, Richie’s already looking. 

The pair meets eyes just as Richie hits a button on his phone screen which, unbeknownst to Eddie, was pointing right at him the whole time. Eddie’s cheeks flush with a small wave of embarrassment, only to be replaced by a loving smile as Richie stares fondly down at the replay of the video. 

“Wow,” Patty breathes from where she backed away to stand beside her husband, “I’ve never seen her warm up to a stranger so quickly…she must really like you, Eddie.”

Eddie grins, gazing back down to the kitten on his lap. He runs a finger down the side of Deedee’s head and down her side, which elicits another round of warm purrs. Eddie softly chuckles, “I like her, too.”

“ _Food is ready!_ ” Ben abruptly shouts from the adjacent room, which rouses the group for their trek to the kitchen. 

Deedee stays curled up in Eddie’s lap the entire way.

  


* * *

  


Every last dish is delicious. 

They always are when Richie’s in charge of creating the menu. He just has this way of knowing which foods and drinks will best compliment each other without even tasting them first. It’s no surprise when everyone not only clears their plates, but goes back for seconds. 

Together, the group sits at one large table in the dining room. 

Eddie is at the head of the table for ease of access with his wheelchair, with Richie seated right beside him. They’re both actively involved in the group’s discussions as they occur, often turning them into friendly arguments just to rile each other up. But there are a few moments where it goes quiet. Someone will sigh as their laughter dies down, while someone else pauses to take a drink of wine. 

It’s the most fulfilling silence Eddie’s ever heard; He knows Richie feels the same when their eyes meet in passing. 

In them, there’s a subtle gleam that asks _How the hell did we get so lucky?_

Time slows when Eddie spots it, knowing Richie’s expression must be a reflection of his own. The subtle smile on his face softens as he reaches out to grasp Richie’s hand beneath the table. Eddie smiles to himself as he watches the others laugh together, rambunctious and carefree.

Then, Eddie flicks his eyes back to meet Richie’s, who offers a knowing squeeze of the hand. 

Dinner stretches to last another hour, yet not a single person complains. They’re all too busy catching up on each other’s lives. Telling stories, laughing at jokes, reminiscing on old times together as children. 

And of course, there’s mishaps. 

Like when Piper somehow manages to free herself from Ben’s lap and run loose across the dining room table. Or how Stan bumps the car keys in his pocket when he laughs too hard, setting off his car alarm for fifteen minutes before anyone hears it. Or when Deedee starts to claw at the presents Eddie set up beside the fireplace, and how Richie spills red wine down his shirt as he stands to go grab her. 

Strangely enough, those moments make the evening feel all the more pleasant. It’s like a reminder that, even after all those years spent apart, they’re still the same kids who share a love unbound by time. 

And Eddie couldn’t be happier. 

That sweet, nostalgic rush lingers in his chest after the group slowly migrates back to the living room. Eddie sighs, content, as his friends pile in around him on the couch. A silence falls, a welcome embrace that somehow feels gratifying. It’s almost like a subtle whisper, reminding Eddie of how safe and loved he feels around his friends.

With Richie having grown up celebrating Christmas _and_ Hanukkah, every room in his and Eddie’s home is decorated for both holidays. But out of every space in the house, the living room is by far Eddie’s favorite. While it’s where the Christmas tree and menorah are, it’s also because it's known as the room where family congregates. 

A place to spend special moments with the people he loves, and a chance to drown out his bad memories with highly-treasured ones. 

Eddie takes a few photos throughout the evening. Enough to be able to fondly look back and remember their chaotic antics, but not so many that he becomes lost behind his phone screen. So far, the best one of the night is definitely the group photo by the fireplace. Bill set it to a timer, having everyone smile at the camera as he ran to get in frame.

But then, Bill tripped…

...and the shutter of a camera snap sounded a fraction of a second later.

The image captured on Eddie’s phone is utterly ridiculous and unusable in the eyes of a stranger, but to the Losers? It’s frame-worthy. Bill is nothing more than a blur in the lower left corner, with Ben mid-shout directly below him. Mike is next closest, eyes wide as his arms extend towards Bill to catch him.

Stan wears nothing but a calm frown, his face being the only one that isn’t blurred at all. In his arms is the vague form of Deedee as she squirms to reach her sister, who lept from Patty’s grasp and is soaring mid-air towards Bill. 

Beverly is hunched over, arms clutched across her stomach as she bellows a surprised laugh. Beside her, Eddie is in a similar state as the cats. He’d switched to his crutches to make it easier for everyone to fit in the photo, and the sudden shouts spooked him. Eddie’s pictured leaping backwards, directly into Richie’s waiting arms as he cackles with Beverly. 

A memory, as horrific as it was in the moment, that Eddie wouldn’t trade for anything. 

The rest of the night is much calmer. Mike and Beverly take a trip back to the kitchen to bring out the pies, which taste just as exquisite as their meal. Not long after, Stan and Patty light the next candle on the menorah with Richie. Eddie captures the moment on camera from behind; He decides to keep the tender photo he got of Stan tightly embracing Richie a secret, for now.

If he blinks, he’ll miss it happening right in front of him.

  


* * *

  


Another thirty minutes pass.

Eddie finds himself perched on his wheelchair, overlooking the rest of the group as Ben and Bill eagerly pass out gifts. And while it’s certainly fun to watch his friends open presents, including the ones from Richie that didn’t make an appearance until _after_ he handed out prank gag gifts first, the top highlight was watching Deedee and Piper play with their new catnip-laced toys from Patty.

“Hey, Eds,” Richie calls out once he spots Eddie starting to make his rounds to pick up scraps of crinkled wrapping paper. “Don’t pick up yet, wait a sec.”

A pointed frown. “Why?”

“Because—” The man cuts off, a sudden flash of panic on his face that’s quickly masked by a forced grin. “—I, uh...there’s one more gift for you to open.”

An instant red flag that seems to heighten Eddie’s senses in seconds. Both he and Richie agreed to save all of their presents for each other until the following morning. Mostly because Eddie didn’t want to feel rushed in doing so, preferring to savor the moment of watching Richie receive his poorly wrapped gifts. But also because there are definitely a few gifts in there that would be best to open in private.

Eddie’s frown grows even more prominent as the gears in his head finally start turning. Richie wouldn’t have kept this from him, unless—

— _Unless._

Fuck. 

No, it can’t be.

“For me?” Eddie tries to play dumb, but he’s so caught off-guard he can’t even tell how believable he sounds. He glances towards the tree and fireplace but sees nothing. “I don’t see anything?”

“I have to go get it, I’ll be right back.” Richie winks and energetically stumbles off towards the hallway that leads to their bedroom. The room that connects to their closet. The closet that Eddie found the engagement ring in. “Stay right there, Eds!”

Heart picking up in his chest, Eddie shoots a pleading look towards Beverly. She offers an innocent shrug in response and Eddie chokes back a groan. 

Not helpful. 

Before Eddie can spiral any farther into his panic, Richie emerges from around the corner with a small bag dangling from his fingers. It swings back-and-forth as if nothing’s in it; Eddie knows it can’t be the ring in there. Exhaling, deeply but subtly, he forces his body to calm itself down. 

There’s no need to get worked up over another false alarm, especially when Richie is trying to surprise him with a gift.

Eddie takes another slow breath.

“Here you go, Eddie, my love.” Richie utters softly once he seats himself on the footrest beside Eddie. The others all stare at him expectantly, equally curious as to what Richie hid in such a small bag. All except Stan, of course, but Eddie can never read what’s going on inside his head anyways. 

“I still don’t get why you’re giving me this now, Rich…”

Another wink. “You’ll see.”

A nervous rush flutters in Eddie’s stomach as he takes the bag. He knows it’s not the ring, he _knows_ it’s not, and yet? He can’t wipe the notion from his mind. The only thing he knows for certain is that if he doesn’t get this damn bag open in the next ten seconds, he’ll surely lose his mind.

In one movement, Eddie nudges aside the festive tissue paper and scoops up something small but firm.

He peers down at his hand. 

As he studies the object more closely, Eddie makes it out to what could be a small ornament. There’s a thin, silver ribbon looped around a flat, circular shape that’s beige in color. It takes a moment for Eddie to realize there’s words carved into its face; He can’t hold back his groan once he realizes he can’t read it in this low of light. “Richie,” Eddie utters under his breath, “Rich?”

“Yeah Eds?”

“What does this say?”

“Can’t read it?” Richie asks in a strange tone that Eddie doesn’t quite pick up on. It’s almost as if he sounds like he _wants_ the answer to be yes. “Because-”

“Shut up, Richie, I _know_ -”

“No, Eds, listen,” Richie adds quickly. He chuckles between words and gives a few steadying pats to his boyfriend’s knee. “I think I have something that can help with that.”

Just when Eddie thought he couldn’t frown more than he already is. “Wait, wh-”

“What you’ve got there is only a part of your present, the other part is in the tree.”

“...Did you just say _in_ the tree, Richie?”

A loud cackle sounds through the room, followed by a few confused but intrigued chuckles from the others. “Sure did, Spagheds,” Richie answers proudly, “I hid that baby right in plain sight _this morning_ and you never fucking saw it.”

“Saw _what?_ ” Eddie presses, glancing towards the tree and seeing nothing. 

“For fuck’s sake, Edde, baby, just go _look_.”

“Fine, fine,” Eddie huffs annoyedly. He carefully places the ornament and bag in his lap before turning around to approach the tree. And sure enough, once Eddie wheels a bit closer, he catches a distinct glimmer of light in the corner of his eye that appears out-of-place. 

Careful not to knock anything off the tree, Eddie slips a hand between its branches and grasps the object. He knows what it is from the very moment he gets a hand around it. It’s a smooth, hard, plastic that’s cold to the touch. Exactly how Richie’s glasses feel when Eddie grabs them from the nightstand the morning. 

“Wait, is this-”

It may not be the ring, but it’s a gift that elicits a sharp, elated gasp all the same.

In Eddie’s hands lies the very pair of frames he singled out from that website Richie once showed him. They’re even nicer in person, with an appealing reflective coating that shimmers beneath the tree’s lights. A small smile growing on his face, Eddie slips the glasses on and stares at their Christmas tree with wonder. 

“Richie, are you serious?” Eddie laughs, surprised and high-pitched. “Oh, Rich…”

A shrill, excited gasp.

There’s a distant drone of muffled laughs from behind him, but Eddie pays no mind. Not when he’s closely studying the ornaments that hang at eye-level. Their detail is exquisite. Any and all words scrawled across them are clear as day and easily legible. 

“Holy shit! Rich, I can _read_ these,” Eddie giggles again, unable to contain his energy. “It’s so fucking _clear_ , what the _fuck_ -”

Seeing the extensive difference in clarity of his near-sighted vision gives Eddie an excited rush; He’s so caught up in staring at the tree that he barely remembers the ornament resting in his lap. “Shit, I almost forgot…”

Adjusting his new glasses on the bridge of his nose, just like he’s seen Richie do with his loads of times, Eddie holds up the ornament—

—and nearly drops it.

There, centered on the ornament, are the words that knock the air from Eddie’s lungs.

_Engaged, 2019_

_Soon to be: R + E Tozier_

Eddie isn’t sure how long he sits there, frozen. It could’ve been ten seconds, or maybe even ten years. Right now, the foundations of Eddie‘s entire world are being broken down and rebuilt inside his mind.

Engaged. 

Richie and Eddie Tozier. 

“...Richie?” Eddie’s breath hitches. He’s not even sure if anyone can hear him trying to form words. “Rich—”

Silence. 

Eddie isn’t sure what to make of that. Frankly, he isn’t sure what to make of anything at the moment. There’s the faintest ring of black around the corners of Eddie’s vision; All his mind is capable of is reading the ornament again and again as he tries not to faint. 

“—Richie, what-” Placing the ornament back onto his lap, Eddie slowly grips his trembling hands to the wheels on either side of the chair. He turns, slow and agonizing under such a heavy silence, until he’s met with a blurred image of Richie in front of him. 

The reading glasses may aid with reading text that’s close to him, but it works to blur everything beyond that point in the process. Eddie slides the glasses off and the world comes back into focus, only for his heart to stop at what waits for him.

Richie kneels before him. 

In his nervous, fidgeting hands sits an all-too-familiar hinged box. 

“Hi, Eds,” Richie smiles weakly, his voice more delicate than Eddie’s ever heard before. 

Their eyes meet, and Eddie feels his entire body flood with an elation so intense, a want so _desperate_ , all he can bring himself to do is stare back.

After all this time, after all of those weeks of _knowing_ Richie was planning to do this. Eddie saw it. He knew it was coming. All of the signs were there. And yet, Eddie’s never felt so taken by surprise in his life. 

Richie got him.

Richie got him _good_. 

“Eddie, honey,” Richie utters, the slightest furrow of his brows barely detectable beyond the chaos scattering Eddie’s thoughts. Eddie is pulled back to the present when Richie, now smirking, waves a hand in front of his face. “Still with me?”

Eddie snaps his jaw shut and nods; He hadn’t even realized it’d fallen open. 

“Okay, good.” Richie extends a hand to pluck the ornament and bag from Eddie’s lap and place them aside. He scoots closer, never breaking eye contact with Eddie, until his lower arms are brushing over the man’s knees. When Richie finally opens his mouth to speak again, all that emerges is a nervous, breathy laugh. “Sorry, I, uh—”

Eddie waits for him. 

He’ll always wait for him.

“Eddie, my love,” Richie says again, more serious now. Both of his hands are wrapped tight around that tiny little box, and Eddie can’t help but flick his gaze down to it just once. When he peers back up, Richie smiles knowingly. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

He can’t speak. 

No matter how much he wants to, Eddie isn’t capable of words right now. 

“You mean more to me than you could ever know, but I’m gonna try and tell you,” Richie continues, voice tensing as he fights to keep his throat from clenching up. “Eddie, you’re my best friend. You always have been from the very first day we met. I don’t know if it’s even _possible_ for someone to be in love at that age—”

 _I felt it too_ , Eddie thinks to himself. 

“—but you always made me feel _something_ when you smiled at me. Or when you were sad, or angry. Or when you were hurt. Or when you were cursing the absolute fuck out of me for doing something insanely stupid. I didn’t know what that feeling was, Eds, but it made me want to be around you...just all the fucking time—”

Breathy laughter falls from Eddie’s mouth as he finally smiles, able to move again after freezing in shock in his wheelchair. Eddie feels his heart leap, and he means _leap_ , when Richie frees a single hand to hold one of his.

Their fingers intertwine, hands resting gently one of Eddie’s thighs. 

It all feels like a fucking dream.

“—Now we’re all grown up. And shit, Eds, when I look at you I still see that same person I knew all those years ago. I still feel that _something_ when I see you, but it’s so much more than that now. I look at you, Eddie, and I still see my crazy-hyper and goofy best friend. But now I also see the greatest love of my entire fucking _life_ —”

_You’re mine too, Richie._

Eddie clings to Richie with both hands now, not bothering to hide the way his breathing turns shallow and his eyes go glassy. 

His throat clenches tight when Richie leans down to kiss the back of his outermost hand. 

“—and I see someone who’s always there to take care of me. Someone who sees me and my flaws and loves me regardless. Someone who brings out the best in me and everyone around him, and who makes me _want_ to be the best person I could possibly be...because he deserves it. Because he’s the one that made me believe that maybe _I_ deserve it too—”

_No, not maybe._

_You deserve everything you could ever want in this world, sweetheart._

Richie pauses to sniff, laughing brightly. He doesn’t sound so nervous anymore. 

“—Eddie, you always call me all these things. You tell me that I’m strong, or that I’m brave. But the truth is that I learned those things from _you_ , man—”

Something bittersweet pools in Eddie’s heart, an overpowering sense of a warmth that reminds him of home.

“—Nobody’s tougher than you, Spagheds—”

Eddie doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Richie reaches up to gingerly wipe his tears away with his thumb. Richie laughs sweetly in a way that’s meant to calm Eddie down.

The notion only makes him cry harder. 

_I love you._

“—Oh Eddie, honey, it’s true. You’re living proof that you’re a thousand times stronger than everything that’s ever tried to bring you down. Even after all of that you’re _still here_ —”

Richie sits up a bit to kiss Eddie’s nose. 

“—you’re still fucking here, right where you’re supposed to be. Where _we’re_ supposed to be. Even when I couldn’t fucking remember you I still felt like I needed to be _somewhere_ else that I wasn’t. I never knew why until I saw your face again. And that sucks for you, I guess, because I’m never letting you go again—”

_I’m not going anywhere._

Eddie still can’t speak, no matter how hard he tries. The words are there. He can feel them trapped behind his lips, desperate to be heard. 

And yet, all Eddie can do is sit and listen.

“—And since you’re still here, I _know_ you must feel the same about me. It’s the only way you put up with all of my shit. Seriously, Eddie, I can’t fucking _believe_ I haven’t annoyed you away yet—”

Eddie chuckles between his sobs. 

“—but I know what we have is real because you _stayed_. You stayed when I was at my absolute worst, Eddie, and you even stayed now. I’m _still_ fucking talking and here you are, still listening because your patience with me is pretty damn astounding—”

_You’re worth the wait._

Voice cracking, Richie’s lips quiver. He stares up at his boyfriend with a fierce determination to ask the question Eddie knows is hiding behind those blue, avid eyes. Tears openly stream down Eddie’s face; The only reason he moves to wipe them away is to be able to see Richie clearly.

“—and Eddie, it took me so fucking long to be able to do this because you’re my world and I wanted to make it so special for you. But now we’re here and I’m actually fucking doing this...I’m ready— I _know_ I’m ready because I don’t think I can wait another _second_ without saying what I’ve been trying to ask for so damn long—”

A moment calm as Richie’s hands shift over the small ring-box in his grasp. 

Then, before Eddie even has time to hold his breath in anticipation, Richie opens the box. And there it is. That evil little golden band that’s been haunting Eddie’s thoughts with its close presence for weeks on end.

“—Eddie, dearest,” Richie half-hums, his voice on the brink of laughter as a visible happiness swells in his heart, “There’s only one greater privilege than the years I’ve spent at your side, and it’d be the honor of calling you my husband—” 

_Your husband._

Eddie lets his face fall in his hands, shoulders shaking as he tries to control his sobs. Richie waits, just as patient, all the more compassionate, until he coaxes his love to peer back up towards him. 

“—I give myself to you, now and forever,” Richie nearly whispers. He extends the hinged box upwards with one hand, while tightly clinging onto Eddie’s with the other. “Edward Kaspbrak, my first love, will you marry me?”

Eddie beams through his tears, shining brighter than the sun.

“Yes, _yes!_ ” Eddie instantly cries out, nodding vigorously. His voice is a booming sound against the distant sounds of claps and hollers as they slowly grow in volume. “Yes, Richie, sweetheart, yes, yes, yes, _yes_ —”

Richie barely has time to react when Eddie flings himself off his chair and right into his lover’s arms. Ring-box still in hand, Richie pulls Eddie in tight and nuzzles in close against his neck. The group surrounding them, who’d remained painfully quiet as they watched the intimate scene unfold, cheer again when Richie fist-pumps the air.

The pair stumble a bit as they struggle to keep balance; Eddie lands half-settled in Richie’s lap with both arms thrown over his shoulders. Another set of fresh tears rolls down Eddie’s cheeks. “ _I love you_ ,” Eddie breathes, words sounding desperate enough to almost be a plea, “Richie, I love you so fucking much, I want to spend every last day of my life with you, sweetheart-”

Richie blinks, a single tear falls. “I’m all yours, Mr. Tozier.”

It’s completely _euphoric_ , the outpour of love Eddie senses in his heart at those words. It makes him want to shout and laugh and weep and smile, if only to attempt to convey the wild mix of emotions he’s feeling. 

It’s not until now does Eddie catch their friends' gazes as he embraces Richie again. 

Patty sits at the edge of her seat, utterly _ecstatic_ as she winks at him from behind her phone camera. Beside her sits Stan, Deedee and Piper cradled in both arms. Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen him wear a smile this bright in his life. 

Eddie’s gaze shifts to Bill, who’s smiling but fidgeting nervously on the couch. That’s when he sees Mike’s hand resting on top of Bill’s between their seats. Mike catches Eddie looking and flinches to pull his hand away, but he stops himself. Eddie smiles widely in response, drawing out a pair of hesitant, but relieved smiles. 

From beside them, Ben is giving Eddie a double thumbs-up between his claps and cheers, visibly shaking with pure excitement. And then, there’s Beverly. Her cheeks and eyes are red, makeup slightly marred as she blots her tears away with a tissue. The words she longs to say are clear in her affectionate stare. 

_You make each other happier than I’ve ever seen. You deserve to feel this incredible with someone as spectacular as him._

Eddie smiles weakly in Beverly’s direction. _It feels more amazing than I ever could’ve dreamed…_

 _And it’ll only get better from here,_ Beverly replies with a reassuring grin, only for it to morph into a smirk as she winks. _Told you it’d be soon._

_I love you, Bev. And shut the fuck up._

A laugh lighter than chiming bells. _I love you too, Eddie._

Eddie turns back to face Richie— turns to face his _fiancé_ , elated beyond reason. Then, a flash of a beautiful grin beneath a layer of stray tears, wiped away as Eddie seals his lips against Richie’s.

They laugh into the kiss, surrounded by those they love most. 

“Eddie,” Richie pants loudly, excitement radiating through his whole body, “Holy _shit_ , Eds—”

Eddie flashes a smirk. “What?”

“We’re _engaged_ , like, what the fuck—” Running a hand through his hair, Richie jumps between a laugh and a shout. “—this is fucking _real_ , dude-”

“Sure is, _dude_.”

All Richie can do is gawk back at him. “We’re getting married…”

“That’s right.”

“...I’m engaged to Eddie Kaspbrak… _Eddie Kaspbrak is my fucking fiancé_ —”

“Rich,” Eddie laughs so hard he can barely catch his breath, “Oh my _god_ -”

“—We’re getting _married_ , Eds-”

A pause, followed by a heartfelt smile and feather-light voice. “I can’t wait to be your husband, Rich.”

More tears slip from the corners of Richie’s eyes. He reaches to cup Eddie’s face with one hand, running his thumbs in slow circles. “Yeah?”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie lightly chuckles before placing a hand on top of Richie’s, “I don’t think I’ve _ever_ wanted anything more than to marry you.”

“Fuck,” Richie huffs, reaching beneath his glasses to hastily wipe at his eyes, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

Another short pause.

“Hey Eds?”

“Hm?”

An apprehensive half-smile. “So did I surprise you?”

A fond expression washes over Eddie’s face, his grin widening as Richie eagerly waits for an answer. When Eddie speaks, his answer is positively, undoubtedly, one-hundred percent honest. “Yeah, you really fucking did, Rich.”

This night, this moment…

...all of it was so incredibly worth the agonizing wait. 

Richie seals another kiss, short but just as meaningful. “Did you like it?”

No, Eddie didn’t like it. 

Not only did he _love_ it, but it may have been just enough to teach Eddie how to learn to love surprises. The most beautiful and treasured things in his life today, after all, were never in Eddie’s initial plans. Maybe these kinds of surprises really do have a place in Eddie’s heart, so long as Richie’s there at his side to meet them together.

 _Yes,_ Eddie thinks to himself as Richie slides the golden band onto his ring finger, _I could get used to this._

“It was perfect, Rich. Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hello to me on twitter!! ❤ @beepbeepjess


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